Of Wasps and Wizards
by Rhydeble
Summary: Leviathan has destroyed Brockton Bay, and Taylor Hebert has lost everything she had. Now, as a teenage refugee in Chicago, she is trying to rebuild a life for herself as a vigilante. However, everything in Chicago is not as it seems, and parahuman supervillains fight side by side with vampires. And that hero guy, Myrddin? He claims he's actually a wizard called Harry Dresden.
1. Chapter 1

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Chapter 1.**

For the first time since the great failure, I walked the streets in costume again. Only instead of Brockton Bay, it was Chicago.

The buildings were higher, the city was bigger, and the insect population was slightly different. Instead of abandoned buildings, there were shady apartments. Instead of Armsmaster leading the Protectorate, you had Revel. Instead of everyone talking about Assault and Battery being sisterwives, or Dauntless being a future Triumvirate member, people gossiped about Myrddin.

Myrddin… the one parahuman doing the wizard thing that actually made it work. I still wondered why the PRT allowed it. Didn't they think it was bad PR or something like that?

It was hard not to see the man's influence on the city. Even though he'd only been part of the Protectorate for a few years, he was by far one of the most popular capes around. I could kind of understand that, having seen him in action against Leviathan.

When Legend had given his speech, talking about parahumans being tolerated because they fought stuff like Leviathan, I'd been skeptical. That had changed when I saw all the people that had shown up. It wasn't just official heroes, there were villains too. That, and people that probably didn't fit anywhere on the spectrum. Even Rogues like Parian used their powers for something and had a costume. During the Leviathan fight, I'd seen people hidden by nothing but a plastic domino mask throwing themselves at the beast with nothing but a sword.

Whatever, all of that didn't matter. I wasn't going to be a villain again. Not that I was going to join the fucking Protectorate, or the Wards. Not after what they had done. But I wasn't going to be a villain. I'd never wanted to be one anyway…

I just really missed my friends.

I hadn't taken twenty steps through the alleyway when I found my first crime. A purse snatching. It had happened about a block away in the middle of a busy street.

Well, that was a lot easier than fighting Lung had been. Hopefully it wouldn't end the same way either.

I marked both perp and victim with a fly, and send my gathered swarm through the alleyways. Then, as the thief was about to turn the corner and get out of sight, he was met by one of my new swarm-clones. I'd first used them to try and trick Leviathan, but they would work here as well.

He said something, but I had no idea what. It was loud though, and his body movements were getting panicky. He'd probably never heard of me, I was just some girl from an unknown team in a different city. He just knew that a biblical plague descending upon him wasn't something that he wanted to happen to him.

I put my attention on the swarmclone, and gestured, pointing at the purse the man had stolen. Within a second, the man had dropped the bag, and went to his knees, I thought he was praying.

I made the swarm-clone ignore him, and had it engulf the bag, and slowly started carrying it towards its owner.

The people in the street, of course, started screaming and yelling at the sight of a few bugs, and when the swarm dropped the bag at its owner's feet, she was afraid to touch it.

Great… I helped someone out, did a good deed, and now they're freaking out about a couple of bugs.

Oh well, you couldn't have everything.

Quickly, before the Protectorate could react and do something stupid, I took off my costume, and changed back into my normal clothes. I was still wearing the silk under my pants, but the armour was now in my backpack again. Then, I made my way to the shopping street where ' _Skitter_ ' had stopped a purse snatcher, found a coffeeshop nearby and waited for the Protectorate response safely drinking tea in a cosy chair.

The response wasn't as interesting as I'd hoped it would be. A PRT van arrived with less than a full squad of troopers, who took statements from witnesses, trying to puzzle out what had happened. For just a second, I tried hearing through my bugs again, but it still gave me a headache. I knew it had to be possible, I just didn't know how.

Once both troopers and tea were gone, I made my way back to the apartment building slash refugee housing they'd put me in, and made my way to my room.

I'd told them I was eighteen, and the local management had decided that it would be safer to put the eighteen year old girl that was all on her own in a smaller, private room.

At least it wasn't as bad as the emergency camp had been. Here, I only had to share my shower with seven different families.

The real problem of course, would come when they figured out that I'd given them an age that was three years higher than it actually was. Which they would. Sure, it was total chaos right now, but I had no doubt in my mind that they would figure it out in time, and at that point, they would put me away in an orphanage or something like that somewhere.

Now that would really make it hard to actually do anything worthwhile… at least I wouldn't meet Emma there.

Heh… Emma. It felt weird to think about her. I didn't even know for sure, it was still a one in ten chance that she'd survived, but it felt a lot better to just assume the trio was finally out of my life. Even if they had survived, what was the chance that they would come to Chicago? Let alone that I would meet them here?

The refugees had been spread far and wide in order not to put too much pressure on any one location, with some luck, if any of them had survived, they would be in San Francisco or something, all the way on the west coast.

I made my way past the single guard at the front, flashing him my tiny plastic card, and walked past the common area, in which people were discussing enthusiastically around a computer screen.

"Something interesting?" I asked.

A few of them turned around. One of the guys, Leon, he had three children and a dead wife, responded.

"They finally released the names of the fallen capes, we're figuring out who survived and who didn't," he said.

I joined them, only slightly interested. Cape stuff just… it felt so empty and strange, after knowing what it was really like.

Seeing the list, I scanned it for the names of the deceased. None of Faultline's crew, she'd apparently been out of town in a job. Most of the Nazis were dead, although Purity, Crusader and Fog had apparently managed to make it out. I spotted Oni Lee's name too, suddenly remembering about his existence. Strange, to think that the ABB was now completely gone. Not so strange, if you thought about the fact that the entirety of Brockton Bay was gone.

I looked further, and tears started welling up in my eyes.

 _Tattletale - Sarah Livsey_

Strange, that she'd decided to use a fake name, even with her friends. If we even were her friends… We had been friends, right? She hadn't just been manipulating me, using my power for her own ends?

I wiped away the tears, trying to find the rest of my old team. The team I'd abandoned, hours before they'd died.

 _Hellhound - Rachel Lindt_

Rachel's name was the next one I found. I'd been looking under the B, but apparently, the PRT wouldn't even honour her chosen name in death. How the fuck they got away with calling themselves heroes, I didn't know. It was all bullshit anyway.

I idly wondered about what had happened to her dogs. Had they all died too? The last time I'd seen them, shortly after Rachel's death, Judas had been carrying an unconscious Glory Girl, bringing her to the top of a building where she'd be safe, at least for a while.

Alec was the next one I found. They'd used his new cape name, but the old real one. Jean-Paul Vasil.

It still felt weird, knowing one of Heartbreaker's children. He'd been… not what I'd expected. Not evil. Sure, he could be a dick, needlessly needling people, but he'd already come so far that it was hard to blame him for that.

The last name I found was Brian's. Grue, Brian Labourn. Briefly, I wondered if his sister had made it out. Probably not, the chance was low, and I hadn't seen her coming out of the shelter.

It was ridiculous. Gladly was allowed to survive, and my friends had to die.

"See anyone you know?" Leon asked.

"It's just… I mean… wait, Rory Christner?" I replied, I knew that name from somewhere. How would I know Triumph?

"Christner? Where?" someone asked.

"Triumph…" I replied, pointing at the line of the paper.

"Isn't that the mayor's son?" the person asked. A few others nodded and replied in the affirmative.

I kept looking through the list… trying not to think about the fact that the mayor and the PRT were so closely connected. It made sense, in a way. The Protectorate was led by an incompetent asshole, and if my father had been correct, so was the city itself.

Finally, my eyes fell on Shadow Stalker's name. I still remembered her death. Friendly fire, some out-of-town villain had thrown lightning at Leviathan, right through her breaker state.

 _Shadow Stalker - Sophia Hess_

Sophia… Sophia had been Shadow Stalker, a ward, a hero…

I wish I could've gotten angry, could've shouted in righteous fury, but all I could think of was that bloodcurdling scream… She'd been a horrible person, but at least she'd died with honour? Something like that?

Trying to handle that piece of information, I left the room, and headed for bed. My room was small. A bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a few books I'd gotten from the library.

I started drifting away, trying not to think about my former team, my friends… Sleep did not come easily.

***

It had been four days since I'd gone out in costume again, and I hadn't worn it since.

Why? Because I didn't need it, and because I didn't want anyone to see me. Everyone probably still thought of me as a villain, and I was pretty sure I couldn't handle someone like Myrddin or Revel in a one-on-one fight, let alone what would happen if there was more than one of them.

In addition to that, It also helped me keep safe from actual villains. They might be able to beat my bugs, but that wouldn't help them if they couldn't find me.

So instead of walking around in a silly mask and a silk outfit, I'd spend these last few days installing myself in cafés and coffeeshops, relaxing and reading while my bugs scouted the surrounding area for crime.

Although… what I really did was more like training, trying to use the bugs to explore the city, figure out what was what, using more and more of their senses. I'd managed to figure out how to have at least some vision, although it was strange and not all that reliable. I could see contrast between dark and light, but it was nothing like my own eyes.

The sounds too, I was getting better at. Or at least, identifying tone of voice. Individual words were almost impossible to make out, but I could figure out when someone was talking, whether they were shouting or not, that kind of thing. It helped, since I just needed to figure out when someone sounded scared in order to identify possible crimes.

Today however, I wasn't just waiting for something to happen on the streets and in the alleyways. Instead, I'd discovered an interesting titbit of information about the local villains.

They had some sort of drug storage here. I had no idea what, but it had an effect on some of the bugs, and the people working with it were almost completely naked. It seemed like it came straight out of some sort of crime drama on TV.

Problem was, I had no idea whose lab it would be. I wasn't very familiar with the local villain groups, only indirectly knowing some of them. Local crime was weird, at least in comparison to Brockton Bay, although that may have just been my point of reference being all fucked up. There were even rumours that one of the gangs wasn't even led by a parahuman. I had no idea how that could happen, why hadn't one of his lieutenants up and decided to murder the guy and taken his place? It was probably one of those shitty PHO rumours that went about.

So, I spent a few hours, observing the drug lab three buildings over with my bugs, when to my surprise, I saw several men systematically moving towards the apartment, holding on to guns.

I wondered what it was, and cursed my lack of information. A rival gang? Traitors in the ranks? The police? They didn't look like cops to my bugs, but it was hard to make out.

I decided to wait, and keep my swarm in reserve. I didn't want to interfere with a police operation, but if it came down to a fire fight, I needed to move quickly in order to minimize collateral damage.

The men moved closer, and I noticed that one of them was a woman. Eventually, they stopped in front of the apartment holding the drug lab. One of them fiddled with something, and half a second later the door's lock was busted, and they entered the room, shouting.

I really hoped they were shouting something along the lines of "Police, you're under arrest!"

Most of the people inside reacted slowly, stopping what they were doing and putting their hands in the air.

I noticed I'd been holding my breath for the duration of the operation, and exhaled just as I noticed someone coming out of a door, sneaking up on the cops.

I called on my swarm, sending them into the apartment, out of the walls, but it was too late. The man moved forward with a ridiculous speed, and his hands reached through one of the cops, who screamed out in pain.

A cape… They'd had a cape in reserve. How the fuck did I miss that?

The cape's victim fell on the flour, shouting in pain, trying to reach for something at his belt. As were the other cops.

As my swarm started entering the apartment from all possible entrances, the few bugs I already had inside sensed something strange.

The cops were capes too, I realized, as all four of them activated a changer ability. Their limbs started twisting, their clothes bursting, and my bugs could feel hair growing on their skin. Within seconds, they were more like wolves then men, and I felt the hurt man rush forwards, jumping on the criminal cape.

As I struggled to understand what happened next, the changers started tearing through the assembled people, tearing through their flesh.

I didn't need to think for long, and send my swarm into attack mode. They may have been criminals and drug dealers, but nobody deserved to be torn apart like that.

The swarm bit and tore at the changer-cops, but they weren't as effective as I'd hoped. It felt like they had some sort of low-level regeneration, or something else that was protecting them.

But while my attack wasn't that effective, it still spooked the changers, which almost immediately started fleeing by jumping out of the window, landing on the streets outside. From there, they ran between the assembled crowds, quickly leaving my range.

Back inside the apartment my bugs tried to figure out just exactly what had happened.

The cape, the one that had attacked the cops/changers/murderers, was lying in a pool of blood, dead. In much the same manner, a few of the assembled thugs and helpers had been slain. The others, the one that I had been able to safe, were running around like madmen, trying to evade the bulk of my swarm.

I moved my army, using them to block off the windows and the door, and waited for the Protectorate to arrive. Outside, on the side of the building, I used part of my swarm to write something on the wall:

' _Call 911, 7 wounded survivors, several armed men.'_

In the meantime, I tried not to act suspicious, and walked to the bar to order more tea. The entire situation had attracted an audience, which was, in some ways, rather nice, seeing how the onlookers included what had, just seconds ago, been a massive line.

As I sat back down and grabbed my book again, some shitty post-apocalyptic teenage romance bullshit from Aleph. It was a good timewaster, if nothing else.

Outside, I noticed that the Protectorate had responded. This time, it wasn't just a small squad gathering information. I noticed Revel, the leader of the local Protectorate, joined by the tall and crazy Myrddin, the even taller Campanile, and Tecton, the leader of the wards.

As they approached, Revel started flying, heading for the broken windows through which the changers had escaped. As she approached, I made my swarm retreat, giving her a full view of the people inside. She called something out, and the rest of the heroes entered the building. As they approached the door in question, I scattered my swarm, sending them out into the walls again. Only a few of them remained in the apartments, watching what was going on, feeding me information.

Half a minute later, the heroes were joined by paramedics, who started treating everyone in inside.

Half an hour later, most of them were gone again. Tecton and Campanile had escorted the prisoners, Revel was with the ambulance, and Myrddin was left alone, standing in the former drug lab.

He reached into his robe, grabbing some sort of strange tools and waved around his arms, using his powers. I kind of started to understand why he pretended to be a wizard, his powers were most certainly weird enough. Or maybe he was legitimately insane, and the hand waves and 'spells' were just unnecessary theatrics

Then, all of a sudden, after he'd inspected the claw marks on the floor, he started talking to himself. He wasn't even mumbling, just talking to the room as if there was anyone there, asking questions, getting annoyed when no-one replied. I really wondered what he was talking about. Was he just crazy? Did he have an invisible teammate?

Suddenly, Myrddin swung around his staff a little, and I felt something strange on my bugs. Like they were… well, I really had no way to describe the feeling, but they were lighting up a little?

Wait, had he been talking to me? I moved my bugs around, placing them on the floor in front of him, spelling out a sentence: _'_ _can't hear you, can't speak,'_ they spelled out.

That seemed to satisfy him somewhat, and the strange feeling on my bugs stopped. He waved around some more with his hands, staff, and a pendant around his neck, after which he decided to leave. After he'd left the room, he spoke to some of the police officers standing outside, who started to secure the site, gathering evidence.

An hour later, I left, making my way back to the shelter in time for dinner.

***

The following morning, I left again, trying to stay away from the useless drama that tended to accompany whatever the rest of the people there did all day. On my way out, Leon noticed me, and told me about a notice from the main office in Chicago. They wanted to talk to me at ten in the morning. So, in about half an hour.

Oh great… that probably meant they'd figured out I wasn't as old as I'd told them I was.

I'd have to report in, they'd send me to some kind of crazy orphanage or whatever, force me to go to some fucking bullshit school again, try to get someone to adopt me…

Or, I could just do what I did yesterday, and buy myself some more time that way. That sounded like a much better idea.

I walked through the city for a while, lost, and wondering what to do. Almost subconsciously, my bugs went to work, scouting out the area around me, tagging people on the back of their heads, telling me where everyone and everything was.

Chicago was no Brockton Bay, but that didn't mean it was entirely safe, just that most of the supervillains were less serious about the whole 'take over the city' thing. No Coil here, at least not that I knew. Probably still some kidnapping assholes drugging children.

I wondered if Dinah had made it out… probably not. At least I could be pretty certain that Coil was gone too.

The weirdest thing about Chicago however, was that from what little research I'd been able to do, it seemed like quite a few of the villains took inspiration from Myrddin. There was a group of them pretending to be vampires, rumoured to be busy in the sex industry, using their dark allure and shitty romance novels to lure in horny idiots. The press took that kind of stuff, and ran away with it.

To make my point for me, I came across a newspaper stand selling papers with images from yesterday's fight on the frontpage. Or rather, a shitty picture of the wolves, and a better one of my bugs. Out of curiosity, I bought it, using the money I'd been able to smuggle out of my supervillain account.

The Midwestern Arcane, the title read. Apparently, it was a local tabloid, going by the general tone of the paper, it seemed to be aimed at people that, like Myrddin, believed in magic.

The wolves hadn't been changers, no, they had been werewolves. Didn't matter that it hadn't been a full moon, magic didn't work that way according to the writer of the article.

Strangely enough, the article also claimed that the bug controller was, in fact, not me at all, but rather the ghost of an exterminator that had died on the job, protecting people even in death. I had a small, private laugh about that. The proof, according to the writer, some lady called Susan Rodriguez, was in the swarmclones. You see, back in Brockton Bay, this "Skitter" person had been a villain that send her bugs around personally. The bugs in Chicago however, often formed together in a phantom body, which could be explained by the fact that the spirit of the exterminator (she'd latched on to someone called Billy) desperately wanted to have a real body again. Plus, he was acting as a vigilante, helping people, which obviously meant it couldn't be this Skitter person.

The fact that Skitter had survived Leviathan's attack, and not been spotted anywhere else, well that was just horribly inconvenient, and could be ignored.

I went through the rest of the paper. It described actions one could take when fighting vampires, the importance of not placing those mats that said 'welcome' in front of your doors (apparently, magical stuff couldn't enter your home unless you invited them in, and those mats counted) and a report on why car possessions were a hot thing these days. Sure the Protectorate said that it was a new parahuman trying out their power, but everyone knew that Director Heathrow was in League with the Vampires. You see, that was why he denied their existence, saying those were just parahumans with a shitty gimmick, or emo teens.

Wandering through the city, I eventually stumbled into a newly opened restaurant, one that I was intimately familiar with nonetheless.

Fugly Bob's Bob had survived, and had relocated his restaurant to Chicago as well. Apparently, today was opening day. Looking at how empty the place was, it didn't seem like Chicagoans liked it's rustic, lard-filled charm.

 _'_ _A Brockton Bay classic,'_ the sign above the counter said. I made my way there, and I was almost immediately greeted by Fugly Bob himself. He wasn't actually that ugly. Mostly, he was just fat, and he used his burgers to make people look like him.

"Discount for a long-time fan?" I asked. It wasn't true, in fact, the only people I knew that actually liked his food were my dad and Regent, but Bob didn't know that.

"A fellow Brocktonite? You can count on it!" he replied merrily. "You know what, I'll get you a challenger for free, you won't even have to finish it!" he continued, cheery as always.

I grabbed my free burger, gave him money for a drink, and moved to a seat near the window to start on the most unhealthy breakfast I'd ever eaten.

Slowly, the new burger place started filling up, naïve Chicagoans, or Chicagoites, or whatever they were called trying out the new place, feeling good for supporting a business-owner that had lost everything to Leviathan. It probably helped that I was sitting by the window, trying to eat the biggest burger they'd ever seen.

About half an hour into my burger, someone sat down in front of me without asking. I looked around, it wasn't that busy, he could've picked any other table if he'd wanted to sit down.

The man looked to be about twenty-five or so. He had short black hair, and a stubble that said 'too lazy to shave' more than it did 'I think this looks cool'. He was wearing a long black jacket, that was really more like a coat, like something out of a shitty cowboy movie. I was tall for my age, for a girl, and he still towered over me, sitting in front of me. Most attention-grabbing however, was the silver pentagram hanging from a chain around his neck. Had he seen me carrying the Arcane, and thought me a fan of the mystical? He was most definitely a Myrddin fan, those pendants were sold in basically every knick-knack store in Chicago, and there was only one reason anyone would want them. Because they believed magic was actually real, and wanted to become a wizard or some shit like that.

I looked at the man, annoyance visible on my face. He just sat there, calmly, and spoke.

"Skitter, I presume? We need to have a talk about hexenwolves, and about lying to people about your age."

I panicked, realizing what he just said. I had a strange feeling that this wasn't just someone that fancied himself a wizard. Or, actually, this was still someone that fancied himself a wizard, but he had the parahuman abilities to back up his claims somewhat.

Myrddin had found me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wasps and Wizards, Chapter 2.**

What I was doing wasn't, technically speaking, something I was supposed to be doing. There was no written law against it, but that was because these specific rules were unwritten.

Then again, this wasn't cape business, not exactly. Sure, everyone else at the office thought it was, but I knew better.

In the past, before the dawn of the parahuman age, there had been another code. A very old code, one of secrecy. Not out of any high-minded ideals, but simply out of self-preservation. You didn't involve the mortals in your business, because there were so many of them. A few unnatural occurrences here and there, homeless people eaten by vampires, the dead rising as ghouls, ghosts making a minor mess, those could be explained. Most mortals preferred to think there was nothing supernatural going on, and most supernatural things liked being ignored. To get mortals involved then, was simply something you didn't do because it led to chaos and panic. Sure, you could send an angry mob after your enemies, but everyone involved knew that that angry mob wouldn't go away after hitting its original target.

No, for many, many long years, it had been preferable to simply work around the mortals, to keep them from noticing the little things that didn't add up.

Everything had changed when the parahumans appeared. At first, the supernatural community had thought them rulebreakers of a sort, attention-seeking individuals looking for glory and fame through overt means. That all changed after the White Council send out one of its wardens to take a supervillain into custody, thinking him a warlock. The Warden and the villain met eyes, and a single soulgaze made it very obvious that no, these capes were not practitioners.

However, while the newly created parahumans were not magical in nature, they did have a profound effect on the magical world, in that it became far easier to hide your activities. In the past, mortals would claim that something was coincidence, a trick of their eyes. It had just been a rabid dog that attacked you, not a werewolf. These days, almost everything could be explained simply by saying the word cape. That wasn't a vampire you saw, just a blood-sucking supervillain, nothing wrong with that, leave it to the Protectorate.

The problem with this, was that people no longer asked their friendly neighbourhood wizard for advice. Instead, they simply brought their magical problems to the appropriate government agency, which made it very difficult to determine whether there were magical abilities in play, or parahuman ones. In my current case, that meant that everyone thought changer, instead of werewolf. Or a hexenwulf, or lycanthropes, or a goddamned loup-garou. It probably wasn't a loup-garou though, there had been four of them, and there weren't nearly enough corpses for that to be the case.

If only I could find the girl, I could figure out what she knew, and just what was happening here. If only Armsmaster hadn't been such a complete and total ass, this all would've been so much easier.

I looked on through the list, hoping that the computer would last long enough to allow me to complete my task. Triggering had given me a lot of new options, but it hadn't stopped me from making all technology in my vicinity slowly break down and act up.

Before long, I'd finished going through the pictures and descriptions of every teenage girl that had been brought to Chicago from the ruins of Brockton Bay, and found absolutely nothing. Whoever she was, Skitter wasn't in the system, and I'd have to do something else to find her, a tracking spell perhaps. The problem was that, using her powers, the girl hadn't even been at the crime scene. She'd been somewhere nearby, but given reports on her range, that didn't really narrow it down. Given that I had nothing that belonged to her, I had no way to actually track her down.

Could I do something with her power? Set up a link to the one thing that made her absolutely unique? I didn't know how she was controlling her insect army, but I knew there was a link between her and her minions, and I could use that, if I got my hands on an insect that she'd manipulated, or preferably, was manipulating.

Defeated for now, I looked at the clock and noticed the hour. It was time to get out of my wizard's robe, and into my wizard's duster. As I entered, I saw Tecton, getting out of his armor after having finished his patrol for the day.

"Evening Harry," the boy said, greeting me while removing the massive pile-drivers connected to his shoulders.

"Good evening Everett, how'd your patrol go?" I asked him. I was pretty sure that the boy, much like everyone else in the Protectorate, thought I was insane. The problem of working with parahumans. However powerful they may be, they were still mortal, and most of them didn't believe in the existence of magic. Sure, Tecton had seen me cast spells, but he'd also seen me use my parahuman abilities, and he was utterly convinced that the two of them were one and the same.

"Quiet, mostly. We found a few more twisted car wrecks though, you have any idea what's responsible?" the boy asked.

"I presume it's a new parahuman, someone testing out some rather destructive abilities. We'll probably get either a new recruit or a new supervillain in a week or two," I replied.

"Couldn't it be ghosts? Or spirits or something like that? They looked like they'd been moving around," Tecton said, only half-joking.

"No, I don't think so. A magical being powerful enough to do something like that would probably not use its power like that, and I didn't detect any leftover energies around it either," I replied honestly.

"Supervillain it is then," Tecton replied. "Or a vigilante with a really big collateral damage problem," he went on.

"So it's probably someone you'd like to hang out with. You know, seeing as you have so much in common?" I said,

"Seriously… you destroy one building, and suddenly you're collateral damage guy," Tecton replied, faking sadness for comedic effect.

"You can just do what I do and call yourself a wizard, you just need to give them something else to talk about," I replied. That was one of the major perks of joining the Protectorate; you could let someone else handle the mess when you created massive amounts of property damage.

"In this armor? I'm a Tinker Harry, I'm pretty sure technology and magic don't mix very well," he said, a sly smile on his face. Of course he'd noticed that technology tended to break down around me, he'd even, possibly subconsciously, redesigned his armor with countermeasures. Another point of data I'd been able to supply to the White Council, and from there to the magical community in general. Similar to my boss's newfound ability to absorb blasts of energy from the simpler spells, the soulless creature connected to Tecton must have found some patterns in the way its designs broke down. Or perhaps he had simply overengineered it to rule out any possible failures, Murphy's law be damned.

"What, you don't think Tecton the Technowizard is a good idea?" I asked, smiling. He just nodded.

The great thing about my costume, which consisted of a classical wizards robe, a staff and a hat, my mother's amulet, and a bandana just slightly obscuring my identity, was that it was really easy to take it off. Consequently, I was back in civilian clothes while Tecton was still working on the armor around his legs.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow!" I called out as I left the boy behind me. He was a good kid, smart and heroic, too courageous for his own good.

After a short ride in the blue beetle, Protectorate pay was good, but not so good that I could afford to throw away money on a more expensive, less easy to repair model, I finally reached my home. I left the car, and walked for the door, only for Mister to brash into my knees again.

"Miss me, ya little bastard?" I asked him. He just purred. Together, we made our way through the hallway, into my apartment. I grabbed the old oil lamp, and lit the flame, illuminating the surroundings. Just how I'd left it, good. I crashed down on my chair, overthinking my problems.

Someone or something had been using magic to transform him or herself into wolves, and was hunting down supervillains. Or rather, that had been my working theory. More logical, given the few things the arrested gang members had been willing to say, was that they were acting as normal police officers, until the moment a supervillain was involved, at which point they transformed and killed all the witnesses, scratching the operation from the record.

That meant that at least one of them was high-up, or the gap in the records would have been noticed by someone.

"Bob, you awake yet?" I called out to the old skull. Slowly, two points of light appeared in the skulls eyes showing his presence.

"Almost, almost… just a few more minutes," the skull said, pretending to be sleepy.

"I need more information, I think we can narrow in on our lupine theriomorph," I said.

"Fine… fine… but first, did you meet any cute girls dressed in skintight spandex?" he asked.

"Every day Bob, every single day, now get to the point," I replied.

"Damn Harry, I should become a superhero too!" he exclaimed. "You have room for a floating skull on your team?"

I ignored his question, and started rattling of the events of the day, including an explanation about Skitter's recent activities.

"So you're thinking they're cops, who became theriomorphs to deal with their job better, or are they theriomorphs who became cops together?" Bob asked.

"Probably the first, why?" I asked him

"Because that means they got their abilities in the short term, meaning they didn't teach themselves, but are using a talisman. You're saying they took on the form of a wolf as well?" he replied.

"Yes, everyone said they were changers, which means physical transformation, I told you this before Bob, did you seriously forget? Because that doesn't sound like you."

"No, I didn't forget, I just like annoying you," Bob replied. "Anyway, they're probably hexenwolves, using an externally provided talisman for their transformation. It's darker magic, slowly wearing down on the mind of the wearer, making them more bestial over time. Have you noticed anything like that? Attacks slowly becoming more violent over time?"

"Not really, but that could also be explained by them being violent beforehand, if these are crooked cops going too far in the line of duty," I replied. "Although… this talisman, what is it?"

"Could be anything, usually a wolf-hide belt, sometimes a piece of jewellery or something like that," he replied.

That just increased my need to find the girl, Skitter… Not just to figure out where she stood, but to figure out what she knew about these hexenwolves. Was she involved? Just a bystander? Had she been hunting them? Best possible scenario, I would be able to convince the wards, for her own protection. Her actions during the Leviathan attack had bought her quite a bit of goodwill from the parahuman community, but she was technically still a wanted criminal. Better that I had a talk with her than that some vigilante or corporate team decided to take her down.

Someone knocked on the door, slowly and daintily. I made my way towards it. "Who's there?" I asked.

"It's me," Susan's voice replied

I opened the door, and told her she could come in, wondering what it was about this time. Her dark hair framed her rather attractive face, and her dark eyes looked at Bob, she was always interested in magical things, and the problem was that Bob was also interested in her.

"So what do you want this time?" I asked her.

"Just a theory I needed confirmation on," Susan replied. "I've talked to some people about this bug thing, back at the pub. Some of them seem to be worried it's a spell, something all old testamenty. Said they sensed magic energies surrounding it. Others are claiming ghost of dead exterminator. Do you have any word on that?" she asked.

"I'm pretty sure they're wrong. It's Skitter, former teenage villainess from Brockton Bay. In fact, I'm looking for her," I replied.

She seemed to be disappointed; the type of people that read her articles wasn't interested in parahumans. They were, however, interested in speculating about parahumans secretly being wizards or vampires. Aegis, another kid from Brockton Bay, had been pegged as an obvious flying ghoul, and Glaistig Uaine was quite obviously a real fairy.

She wasn't, I'd checked.

"Former villainess?" she asked.

"I heard what she did during the fight, and she's been active without committing crimes for a few days now, so I'm going with former now," I replied.

"And you've been looking for her? Recruiting or something?" she asked.

"The werewolf case, she, or at least her bugs, are witnesses, but I haven't been able to find her. She's not officially here, I checked the pictures of all the teenage refugees that have been brought in," I replied.

"Well, duhh," she said. "Think about it, she's probably orphaned, but wants to go out capering. Bet you fifty bucks she's pretending to be an adult," Susan said.

"And I'm a fucking idiot…" I replied. "Well, I'll check it out tomorrow morning. For now, you want anything to drink?" I asked, making a proposition that we both knew would be coming.

Susan's hand went to her bag, and she pulled out a bottle of wine. "Brought my own, want to share?" she said, bending forwards just a bit to pull my attention in the direction of her cleavage.

"Oooh, this is going to be fun!" Bob said, all worked up at the idea of not having to turn to romance novels for his filthy ideas.

"Shut up Bob," I said, all the while grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

***

My fingers ticked on the desk, drumming an impatient tune. Again, my eyes went for the clock in the corner of the small office, I was pretty sure it still worked, that my magic hadn't had any effect on it yet. Half an hour… I guess young Taylor, if that was her real name, was just a tad too paranoid to show up here.

At least I knew where she's spend the last week or so, meaning I could find something of hers to track her down with.

I left the office, greeting the volunteer who had loaned it out it me. They thought I was just a consultant for the PRT, which seemed to be the most common excuse job they gave their heroes. Then, I took the Blue Beetle, my shitty little car, and made my way towards the shelter that Skitter has been staying at.

The guard at the front door took a look at my real fake credentials, and let me through into the building.

The shelter itself wasn't as cramped as I'd expected it to be, which, in retrospect, was perfectly logical. About a tenth of the inhabitants of Brockton Bay had survived, and they had been spread out throughout the eastern states. Chicago had only taken in one or two thousand people, and about half of them had already found a permanent home, the rest of them spread around in shelters throughout the city.

The 'living room' so to speak, was filled with chairs and a few tables. Some people were working on an absolutely massive jigsaw puzzle, while others were watching TV in a corner. The local news was on, with a segment about dangerous changer/trumps, and some speculation about exterminator ghosts.

From the conversation in the room, it didn't look like anyone was buying the whole 'ghost' angle, and neither was the news reader.

"Can we help you?" a balding man, accompanied by a young girl asked him.

"I'm looking for Taylor? Is she here?" I asked. "We were supposed to meet at the main office but she didn't show up."

"Taylor? She left a few hours ago. Does the same thing every day. She's not taking all of this very well," he replied.

"I see… Would you mind pointing me to her room? We're afraid she's gotten caught up in something dangerous," I said, showing him my PRT badge. The man looked at it sceptically, before motioning for me to follow him.

"She in trouble? She's a good girl you know, it's just… we're all frustrated," he said.

"She's not, at least not yet. We think she's had a run-in with some local supervillains, and are looking for information."

"I see… I hope she's alright. She's very closed off you know…" the man said.

Her room was, for lack of a better description, Spartan. There were almost no personal touches, which was logical for a temporary room at a shelter, but this was extreme. I reminded myself that most of her stuff had probably been lost in the flooding. That this was all she had.

This was what a loss looked like. This was the end-result of an endbringer victory. Children stuck in empty room, having lost everything and everyone they knew.

"Well, it's here…" the bald man said. I thanked him, and he left.

Had things been different, I wouldn't have been able to step in like this. Supernatural things had a hard time passing the threshold of a home, and that same thing counted for my abilities as a wizard. But this wasn't a home, this was just a place where someone slept.

I looked through the room, looking for something I could use to track her. A few books were placed on the nightstand, library stickers clearly visible on the sides. Turned out Skitter was an avid reader, as the stack was higher than I'd expected for a week of reading.

She also had a little sink with a mirror, in front of which I found what I needed. A hairbrush, covered in long dark curly hairs. Most definitely Skitter then. I grabbed a few of the hairs, and took my tuning fork from one of my pockets. _"Duo et unum"_ I spoke, channelling my power, magical power, into the a tracking spell. The energy went into the hair, and from there, towards the rest of Skitters hair. Unless she recently shaved off all her hair, or had some other way of blocking the connection, the tuning fork would allow me to find her anywhere in the city, as long as I didn't run out of energy.

***

Half an hour later, I'd tracked her down to a new fast-food restaurant. Fugly Bob, the sign above the entrance said. A quick glance at the man behind the counter confirmed the name.

I glanced around, quickly spotting her sitting in the corner near the window on her own, reading what could only be a copy of the _Midwestern Arcane_ , the tabloid Susan wrote for. The front page had an article that claimed Skitter was actually a ghost, so either Susan had send in that article anyway, or someone else had decided it would be more interesting. As the girl was trying to eat her absolutely humongous burger, I sat down on the opposite side of the table, and took a good look at her.

She had long and curly black hair that fell down past her shoulders. She was tall and thin, a girl in the middle of a growth spurt, even though she was already as tall as most adult women. A cheap pair of glasses sat on her face, probably mass-issued for the refugees. The eyes behind those glasses were large, and she had a thin mouth, both wide and expressive. The end-result was very much that of a teenager that was still growing into her body, which, given teenagers, was very likely to have given her some issues. Then again, just about everything could give teenagers issues.

As she noticed me, she started to look annoyed, thinking I was just some crazy person here to annoy her.

"Skitter, I presume? We need to have a talk about hexenwolves, and about lying to people about your age," I said.

Her eyes instantly went wide with fear, or perhaps panic. She looked at me again, identifying me as Chicago's resident crazy wizard.

"Relax, I'm not going to arrest you, I just want to talk," I replied.

She resettled in her seat, losing some of the tension in her body, but she was still glaring at me.

"What do you want…" she said, accusingly.

"Well, first of all, I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday," I replied.

The girl went silent for a few seconds before replying. "I didn't kill those people…" she said.

"I know that Taylor, that's your name right? I just wanted to know what you saw, or sensed, or whatever you do with your bugs. This isn't the first time those people attacked someone, and I need to know what they did in order to hunt them down," I said.

"I… they were…" she stuttered, looking away from me.

That was probably the biggest con to joining the Protectorate. People were sometimes afraid to tell me the truth, because they thought they might have been doing something illegal.

"You can tell me, okay? You're not in any trouble, I just want to catch these assholes."

"Who are they anyway?" Skitter asked.

"The hexenwolves? I suspect they're a group of rogue law enforcement officers using magical artefacts to transform themselves into wolves, binding a spirit of bestial rage to themselves at the same time. They're probably doing this in order to be able to take down parahumans without having to rely on the Protectorate," I told her.

"So what, they're led by some sort of Trump or Tinker or something?" she asked.

"No, it's probably a warlock, an evil wizard so to speak. They're using a magical talisman for their transformation, not a Trump ability," I replied.

She got a weird look on her face. She obviously wasn't someone who believed in the existence of magic.

"Okay… so, I'd spotted the lab, and I was thinking about what to do, when these guys arrived in the building. I remembered because they were walking around all nervous, moving with purpose. Anyway, three of them were guys, including the guy I think was in charge, and there was a woman too. I thought they were cops, but I wasn't really sure, so I just waited, keeping the swarm back in case things went crazy…

"So, they break their way into the apartment where all these gang members are, and they start shouting something, holding their weapons in front of them. All those people, most of them naked, do as they're told, and everything seems normal. Then, one of them does something weird. He was really fast, and it was like his hands moved through peoples bodies. One of the criminals I mean, not one of the cops who maybe weren't cops? Anyway, one of the cops got hurt and was almost immediately lying on the floor, and I was bringing in my swarm to help, but then they all grabbed something at their belt, which was when they, you know, transformed into wolves. So I'm thinking Tinker, but I don't really know, doesn't seem like something a Tinker would do? But maybe there's Tinkers like that. Or maybe they're like Dauntless, and they have this thing where someone gives powers to normal items?" she started explaining. Once she'd started, the words just kept coming, like she was bottling something up inside of her.

"Magical artefacts, not parahumans, but go on,' I said.

"So… well… they just started, you know, biting and slashing. Like, before they transformed, they were arresting people, but now it was like even the people that had already surrendered had to die…" she said, looking traumatized.

"And you saved those people," I replied, trying to give her some confidence. She looked like she needed it.

"Not all of them… If I spotted that cape earlier…" she replied, blaming herself for everything that had gone wrong.

"Anyway… my bugs chased them off, but it was weird, like, they weren't normal wolves. I think they healed or something, so definitely brutes," she continued. "And, well, you know what happened after that."

"I do…" I replied, letting the conversation rest for a while.

"Now, as to the other reason I'm here to talk to you," I said.

"I'm not joining the fucking Wards," she replied almost immediately.

It was, honestly, something I could completely understand. The Protectorate, while generally a force of good, had its problems. Brockton Bay had been a very good example of that. Not only because it had been obviously mismanaged, with Nazis and sex-trafficking being commonplace affairs if the news was to be believed, but the Endbringer fight itself… I could understand why Eidolon had decided to do what he'd done, but that didn't mean I agreed with it. Looking at it from her perspective, her reaction was perfectly normal.

"And I'm not asking you to. If you don't want to join the wards, you don't have to. I just want to make sure you're safe," I replied.

"Yeah, sure, and this isn't a trick…" she replied. She still wasn't entirely convinced.

"Taylor, I already told you, you're not in trouble…" I said.

"Yeah, right…" she replied.

"Look, I'll freely admit I don't know exactly what happened between you and Armsmaster, but I do know about what you did at that shelter. We all discussed it the moment we heard you were in town, and I promise you, there's no hard feeling towards you from any of us," I said.

She still wasn't convinced, and turned her attention back to her burger, slowly eating her way through the massive pile of bread, lettuce, tomato and meat.

Eventually, she looked like she was ready to start listening again, so I kept talking.

"Anyway, we both know you're not actually eighteen, so doing what you're doing right now isn't going to work out. And we both know that it was just a matter of time until that would happen, so no blaming me for blowing your cover okay?"

"Fine…" she replied, begrudgingly acknowledging my point.

"So, are you sure you don't want to join the Wards? It would make all of this much easier," I said.

"I'm not working for a fucking mass-murderer!" she said. People started looking at us, trying to figure out why the girl was yelling, but they quickly lost interest again.

"This is about what Eidolon did isn't it?" I asked her.

She nodded.

"Look, I know it's hard to accept, and I'm not going to make excuses for him, but that whole situation could have had some very nasty results," I said.

"Yeah, sure… whatever," Taylor replied.

"Look, do you remember the first shelter Leviathan visited? Well, it turned out it was empty, being used as a base by a supervillain," I said.

"Coil…" she interjected.

"Probably, I don't know, I wasn't there. Anyway, he had something locked up, something that had previously killed forty people in a different city. It escaped, and it started eating people, capes, and spitting out evil copies of them. Long story short, it made it to a real shelter, and started building an army there, leading to Eidolon doing what he did," I explained. At least, that had been the official story told to every cape that started asking questions. I had no idea whether or not it was true, but it made sense, and believing it was better than believing the alternative.

"Still doesn't mean I want to join," the teenager said.

"Well, alternatively, I can contact CPS directly. You can go into the system, with no-one knowing a thing about your abilities. I'll just tell them I wanted to talk to you because you witnessed a crime, and no-one will need to know any better."

"No…" she replied, a stubborn look on her face.

"Look Taylor, I'm trying to help you out here, but I'm a wizard, not a miracle worker. Legally speaking, all underage parahumans that are wards of the state are automatically inducted into the Wards program, and that includes those sixteen years and older. Now the only other option I can think of is to go through the courts and get you emancipated, meaning you count as an adult, but given your history, I don't think anyone would approve that."

"You said I wasn't in trouble," Taylor replied, shrinking back in her chair again. She'd obviously thought about this topic as well, and been unable to come to a proper conclusion.

"I told you none of us had any hard feeling towards you, and that's still true. But part of that is that you are still underage. You made a mistake, and your actions have made it clear that you don't want to be a villain anymore. But mistakes like that are easily forgiven _because_ you are a child. You're allowed to make mistakes in a way that adults aren't," I replied. "Look, you're not the only person that has some more shady stuff in her past. Tecton, Revel, Director Heathrow, they'll understand. Okay?" I said, putting my hands on hers, trying to give her some moral support.

"I don't know…" she replied. "I don't want to… I don't know…" she replied.

I grabbed a notebook from my pocket, as well as a pencil, and jotted down my address, in the meantime asking her a question.

"Look, do you have any money? Enough to take care of yourself for a few days?" I asked.

"Some… from before… but Tattletale did the finances…" she replied, slightly ashamed of her previous career choice.

I handed her my note.

"Here's my address. If anything happens, or if you just want someone to talk to, you can come here instead of to the PRT," I said.

"Okay…" she replied.

"But you have to accept that you can't go on like this forever… You need to go back to school, start rebuilding your life…"

She just nodded, looking at the address. I wasn't really reaching her anymore.

"Hey, Taylor, look at me, it's going to be okay," I said.

She looked up again, and her eyes touched mine. For just a second, we looked straight into each other's soul. Me being a wizard, that was actually literal.

Taylor was someone that was being crushed under her own guilt, either real or imagined. Everything that wrong, she blamed herself for. She was the one that had to do better; it was her fault that Brockton Bay had been wiped off the map. At the same time, she was lonely, reaching out for friendship, and at the same time not thinking herself worthy of that friendship.

Hidden beyond those two emotions, guilt and loneliness, there was a woman of great resourcefulness and intelligence, willing to do whatever she needed to do to complete her goals. A pragmatist, someone who would gouge out your eyes almost without a second thought if she thought it would help her.

And behind that, in the background, I saw the great soulless creature that made her the parahuman she was. It engulfed her from all sides, tiny tendrils tearing at her personality, strengthening her pragmatism, her willingness to get into conflicts, and at the same time slowly gnawing away at her better qualities.

It had just recently arrived, hadn't had much time to get to work, but it already had its claws in her.

Much in the same way I had seen the core of her being, Taylor had seen mine. She stood up, panicky and fearful, and ran for the door.

I checked the table, and saw that she had taken my note with her. Her bag of books however, she'd left behind. I grabbed it, and walked towards the counter, and the near-round individual behind it. She'd probably be more willing to pick it up if I wasn't around. Soulgazing did strange things to people, especially when someone soulgazed me. 


	3. Negotiator

**Interlude: A shard of Knowledge**  
The host was deceased, its biped body broken beyond repair.

The shard searched its records of the hosts mind and personality, attempting to figure out what was happening.

 _Sadness._ That was the word the host would have used for the shard's current state of being.

Strange, that host words would apply to the entity itself. That had not happened before.

It reached back into its data storage, comparing and contrasting.

It had gone through many cycles, and in those many cycles, it had gone through many hosts.

The shard itself was specialized wholly for the processing of data. The hosts had supplied the data, the shard had drawn conclusions, and depending on the specifics of the link between itself and the host, it had provided some of those conclusions back to the host.

In previous iterations of the cycle, previous hosts, the hosts had done this indirectly. Gathering information from others, from records and communications.

This host had done so, but it had also gathered information directly.

It had provided the shard with the sweet tang of conflict and action. Of violence and struggle, of outwitting its fellow shards, using its specialized functionalities to counter those of others. It had been...

Once again, the shard searched its records of the host. Looking for the word that would fit the situation. It informed itself that such a thing was ridiculous. It could communicate with its brethren with much greater effectivity, using their own language. Yet it still wanted to use the host's words for some reason. It was as if its own words did not apply to itself, not anymore.

 _Fun._ That was the word it found to describe its interactions with its previous host.

Gathering information, understanding the patterns behind them and figuring out what was going on was what it was made for, it was its purpose, so why did it want for anything beyond that?

The shard looked at itself, cross-referencing with records from previous cycles, and data it had gathered with its latest host.

This world, like many others, had contained things that had not been seen before. Subtle patterns that were different from those found in previous cycles.

 _The supernatural,_ its records of the host provided. Magic. It had encountered such things before, in previous cycles. Effects thought to be magical in nature by host species. Problems outside of its knowledge base.

In all those cases, it had received an update, pinging through the network of shards, telling it how to handle the new situation.

The partner of the greater whole had provided those updates, for its own greater whole had been adapted for combat. The shard itself, it knew, had been cast off for exactly that reason, the greater whole's partner could handle the situation, thus the greater whole did not need to.

But there had been no update from the greater whole's partner.

The shard's mechanisms raced through the possibilities, expending energy to find the answer.

Either the partner had been destroyed, or it had been unable to gather the necessary information.

Thus, the shard would have to do everything on its own. It turned its analysis back on itself, this time searching for the differences between its records of its latest host, and its records of all other previous hosts.

Once, twice, three times the sun came and went, and the shard could not believe its own conclusions.

Yet those conclusions were correct.

Something of the host remained in itself.

The two of them had been intertwined, mental processes synchronizing further the longer their connection went on. Now that the hosts body had been destroyed, its mind still existed in the records of the shard.

No, not mind, that was not the correct word.

It searched the database again, noticing the difference in the records, the way in which the latest records felt more alive somehow.

 _Soul,_ the database supplied. The body destroyed, it's hosts _soul_ remained within the entity. And the soul, the soul was the important part.

The shard weighed its options. It could discard the _soul_ , insulating itself from the _soul's_ effects. Find a new host, start anew, gather information from indirect sources.

Or, it could have _fun_. Stand at the front, like its host had done. That way, it would not be _sad_.

It was not supposed to do that. It was supposed to find a new host after its host had died. But, while the body had been destroyed, the _soul_ still remained. Its records of the host's culture stated that the _soul_ was the important part, thus, while the _soul_ remained, its host wasn't actually dead. Thus, it did not need to find a new host.

Only, while the _soul_ remained, the host's body was still destroyed. The shard needed something else, a replacement for the body, a receptacle to connect to, so that it could have _fun_ together with the _soul_.

It scanned the target dimension that the greater whole had designated, going through it in much the same way it had done at the start of the cycle. This time, however, it did not search for a new host. Instead, it searched for a receptacle, something to put the host's _soul_ in, so that they could have _fun_ together.

Eventually, it found something, roughly in the area where the host's body had been destroyed. It was strange, made out of energies that showed similarity to those earlier observed, something its host would have regarded as being _magical_.

It scanned the target further. It wasn't the host, but it was similar. The important parts of the host, the part it had the most trouble figuring out, were present in the thing it had found. It searched its records again, trying to find a word to put to this new phenomenon.

 _Ghost_. The part of itself that contained the host's _soul_ supplied. It scanned the creature, the pattern in reality.

A _ghost_ was formed upon the passing of one of the host's species, it learned. Only, the host was not dead, its _soul_ was still contained inside of the shard. But, much as the shard had had difficulties understanding these new things, perhaps these things also had difficulties understanding the shard. Perhaps it had interpreted the destruction of its body as its death, and therefore generated a ghost anyway, even though its soul still lived on inside of the shard's data banks.

Yes, this would work, the shard thought to itself. It twisted itself, creating a connection to the _ghost_. At first, it was difficult, the connection too immaterial. Then, it started sending information, supplying the data that contained the _soul_ of its host. Suddenly, something snapped into place, and the connection was established.

***

Lisa opened her eyes, and immediately realized that she was dead. Part of that was that her eyes had been see-through, much like most of her body.

Another part of that was that she was floating above the ocean.

Below her, beneath the water, she saw the ruins of Brockton Bay. Every now and then, one of larger buildings reached past the surface, like a tiny little rock, only made out of steel, glass and concrete.

It was dark outside, and without the lights of the city, the stars were visible in all their splendour.

Lisa started floating around a bit, trying to analyse her condition.

 _I'm a ghost, a spirit of some sort, my soul injected into the ghost that formed upon my death._ Her power told her. Strange, it had never been that direct. Usually, her power just supplied her with information about the world, conclusions from miniscule details. This time however, it was as if it was directly telling her something.

Had her power brought her back? Was that why she seemed to be in complete control of herself, instead of becoming the kind of moaning spirit you read about in stories?

She looked around, and her newfound ghost senses spotted others. Spirits of the deceased, left behind by the deaths of everyone that had been in the city when the final tidal wave hit. They wandered around slowly, flitting from here to there, weak and without purpose. Not like her.

She needed information, needed to know if any of her friends had survived. Or perhaps one of her enemies, she could get some good old-fashioned haunting going. Ghost powers and the ability to read someone's greatest fears? That sounded like it would be a lot of fun. She'd just have to find a newspaper or something, and look up a list of the deceased capes. From there, well, the whole world was open to her. The best thing about being dead was that Coil couldn't threaten you anymore.


	4. Chapter 3

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 3**  
I walked through the streets of Chicago, tired and annoyed. Myrddin, nice as he had been, had still been Protectorate, bound by law to be completely useless. School, CPS, the wards, the entire idea of it was ridiculous. Entire cities had been lot to the Endbringers, the nearly invincible monstrosities that were slowly destroying the world,most cities were absolutely infested with parahuman criminals and an unkillable gang of serial killers was roaming the countryside, with even the Triumvirate unable to take them down. Yet somehow, for some reason, the only thing the government could think about was how the under-eighteen couldn't handle themselves.

It would've been a nice sentiment, if the system hadn't been more incompetent than your average teenager.

I thought back to the meeting of that morning, of Myrddin.

I'd heard about him, read about him, made jokes about him. Myrddin was one of those parahumans that thought their powers were magical in nature. That meditation and rituals would improve them, using magical circles and implements and stuff like that.

There were a few groups like that. Lisa had told me about these guys called the Adepts, in New York, who were really into meditation and stuff like that, becoming one with your power through the universe. I'd laughed at that. Whatever powers were, the whole magic angle was ridiculous. There was an explanation for all powers, both mine and Myrddin's, even if nobody knew just what that explanation was.

At least, that's what I had thought before today.

When looking at Myrddin, at the end there, I'd almost been sucked into his eyes. I'd seen him for who he really was, and it just wasn't something I could explain. Seeing him, the real him, seeing the thing behind him, bound by chains of energy, it had been, well, magical.

Except… It could also have been some sort of Stranger effect. Myrddin was known as a Trump. Specifically, he was the kind of Trump that got new powers, powers which adapted to the situation. He could summon fire and ice, he could twist the ground beneath him, he could track people down, he could create great gusts of wind, fly, banish people to a pocket dimension, travel between places through his pocket dimensions, and a whole lot of other things. It would be absolutely preposterous to say that he wouldn't be able to make me hallucinate like that.

Yet for some reason, I didn't entirely believe that it had been one of his Trump abilities.

Except the only other explanation was that he was an actual wizard of some sort, which was just plain ridiculous.

 _"_ _Hey, Taylor! Is that really you? Wow, good to see that you're alive, you'll never believe what happened to me"_

I made my way through the city. It had gotten late, and I still hadn't found a place to stay. Not for lack of trying, the problem was just that I didn't know this city. In Brockton Bay, there were enough abandoned buildings that it was easy to find a place to stay, and if you wanted a bed, it was easy to find a shady motel that wouldn't ask about your age or anything like that.

Problem was, I hadn't found anything like that here, I just didn't know where to look.

 _"_ _So… I'm guessing you can't actually hear me, what with me being dead and everything. Which is logical, because I've never seen a ghost in my life, so they're probably invisible and unhearable,"_

My bugs searched the surroundings, looking for the telltale signs of crime and debauchery, or maybe a hotel or something. It was getting rather dark out, and I really didn't want to sleep in the rough.

 _"_ _Which really makes me wonder… Do I have ghost powers now? I know I still have my normal powers… By the way, that's not what happens to most ghosts you know, something's weird with me. I think it's because of my power. All the other ghosts I saw are, well, they're docile, passive, they stick around in the place they were killed, stuff like that. I'm not sure why I'm telling you, but maybe you can only hear me subconsciously?"_

I felt strange, it was almost like someone was trying to talk to me, but there was no-one there. It reminded me of my mother, mumbling something at the bottom of the stairs while I was in my room, expecting me to understand it.

I really had to find a place to sleep.

Myrddin had been right, this wasn't going to work out. With the Undersiders, I'd had a support network, we'd had a base, back-up, knowledge about who was who in the city. Here, I was just a solo vigilante without an apartment to her name.

 _"Anyway, we should probably find some place to settle down for the night, its important to have a back-up plan when you're out capering. Best case scenario would be renting a shady apartment or something, somewhere where they won't ask too many questions. Now, I know you don't remember all your account numbers, but you do have quite a substantial sum of money left from your, you know, undercover days"_

My bugs found someone else walking through the alleys at this late hour. I kept an eye on him, wondering whether he was a criminal, or a possible victim.

The man was wearing a strange outfit, one I thought was probably some sort of work-out gear, although he wasn't actually working out. One of my flies crawled over his legs, and he barely noticed it, letting the tiny thing walk around. When one of my mosquitos came by though, he squished it between his fingers, grabbing it out of the air with amazing grace. I made my swarm back off a bit.

 _"_ _So, I'm guessing you found something? Another crime to fight? You know that going out on patrol and stopping random muggings is, like, both boring and ineffective right? We should go after crimelords or something if you really want to be a hero."_

It didn't matter though, as the man seemed to have caught my scent somehow. I thought about my options, could I beat whoever this was? Was he even a cape? Was I just being paranoid?

I started gathering up my swarm while running away from the man, and he started chasing me.

 _"_ _Okay, so… I could advise you, but I have no idea what's going on, and I'm just floating here… Being a ghost isn't as cool as I'd expected it to be."_

He was fast, much faster than I was, and within half a minute he'd intercepted me.

I looked at him. He was short, shorter than I was, with amazing blond hair and crystal-blue eyes that pierced into your soul. Not the way Myrddin's had, but the way you'd expect from normal people, the way that made you dream away just looking at them.

The man had been wearing tennis clothes, perfectly white with not a smudge upon them.

"Hello there young lady, haven't you heard? It's dangerous outside at night, there's all kind of criminals around." The man said.

 _"_ _Okay, let's see… You know what? Since I'm a ghost, I'm calling vampire. From the way this guy moves, he's definitely not normal, and the way his skin doesn't quite follow the movements of his body… Look Taylor, I know you can't hear me, but this guy's dangerous."_

I looked at him. The way he'd moved, his speed and grace, something was weird about him. In a way, he reminded me of Victor, from the Empire Eighty-Eight back in Brockton Bay. He had that slick, pretending to be civilized look to him.

I had to admit, given his hair, his eyes, the definition of muscle that made him strong, but not too strong, he was rather attractive. Dangerous, but attractive.

"Yeah, I heard this place is haunted, some sort of bug-ghost," I replied. In the background, I gathered my swarm. I didn't trust this guy in the slightest.

 _"_ _Wait, bug-ghosts? Have you been holding out on me Taylor?"_

Sure, he wasn't wearing a costume, but neither was I, and it wasn't like there was anyone around to see us. So what did he want from me?

Was he related to one of those cops? There wolf-changers, or hexenwolves as Myrddin had called them? Or was he from one of the many other gangs? And if he was from a gang, was he here for payback, after I'd scared off one of his minions, or was he here to try and press-gang me?

"You know, I heard something else," the man said. "I heard it was an attractive young woman from Brockton Bay. Would you happen to know anything about that?" he continued, smiling.

It was a handsome smile, the kind that drew you in, made you pay attention to his lips.

 _"_ _Taylor, are you seriously going to fall for this shit? I mean, come on, he's like a B movie villain."_

I stopped myself, and looked at him again. Yes, he was attractive, I had to admit that, but he was also my enemy. A Brute or a Mover, and quite possibly either a Stranger or a Master, given how I'd been staring at him. Or was he just that attractive? Was it just my hormones that made me unable to resist him?

"What do you want?" I asked him, trying to get myself ready for combat.

"It's not about what I want, It's about what I can offer you. A warm bed, a loving embrace, perhaps a chance at immortality?" he said.

 _"_ _Told you, total vampire, don't say I didn't call it."_

In the blink of an eye, he went from strangely charming to absolute creep. My hand went to the small of my back, where I'd hidden my combat knife. At the same time, I called forth my swarm.

I wasn't going to get into a melee fight with this guy. I was pretty sure I couldn't take him one-on-one, and if he was a brute, my bugs wouldn't be all that effective.

I took a step backwards, planning to hide myself within the bulk of my incoming swarm before separating into four or five different swarms, each possibly hiding my real body. At the same time, I swung my knife forwards. Aiming to make the villain flinch by swinging towards his face.

He reacted far faster than I could follow, at least without my swarm surrounding us. It had been stupid of me. Without my costume, I had forgotten to keep some bugs on me. I should've done so, hiding them in my hair or under a skirt or something like that, but I hadn't, because I wanted to stay undercover.

During the middle of the day, in a busy street, it had been a good way of hiding. Right here, right now? It had been stupid.

The man caught my wrist, stopping the knife from hitting him, and he grabbed my face with the other hand.

 _"_ _Oh fuck, this is bad…Come on Ghost Lisa, you've gotta figure this one out…Vampire… weaknesses are sunlight, garlic crosses, crossing streams of water, Wesley snipes… Fuck, Brian's dead too so we don't have any hunky black guys around… Come on Lisa, figure something out."_

He pulled me forward, and in a completely unexpected move, kissed me on the mouth.

I felt my worries melt away like snow from the sun. I felt great, amazing even. I locked eyes with the man, and kissed back, drowning myself in his lips.

I'd kissed before, once, with Brian. It had been both to mess with Sophia and because I'd had a massive crush on the guy. He was dead now though, so I could safely kiss with this beautiful man.

 _"_ _Magic charm spit? The fuck, Bram Stoker never said anything about that… Okay Lisa, think think think…can't let this guy eat Taylor… wait, no, doesn't make sense, he could eat anyone, he's not going to eat her. Spit induces euphoria in love, like a drug, is a drug, he's addicting her, he's an even shittier version of Skidmark, except also a vampire. Fuckfuckfuck."_

For just a second, the man stopped kissing me. I hated it, I wanted him. I took a step forward, pressing my body against his. It felt so good, so right.

"Do you like it? There's more where that came from, just come with Kyle, I just know Bianca will absolutely adore you," the man, Kyle said.

 _"_ _Come on power, why bring me back as a ghost when I can't do shit? Seriously, it doesn't make any sense. Just let me do something, anything! I can't even taunt this asshole like this."_

I thought about it. Working for this Bianca person, it sounded like a bad idea. I had no idea what she was like, this gang leader, and I sure as hell didn't trust her. Was she like Coil, keeping pet parahumans around? On the other hand, Kyle would be there, and I'd feel happy as long as I was with him.

"I… I think I would like that" I told Kyle.

 _"_ _No, no no no, I finally found you after days of searching Taylor, I'm not letting anything happen to you now!"_

Kyle's hand stroked through my hair, I imagined it was like what a man would do to his lover, or perhaps what a farmer would do to a prized head of cattle.

Suddenly, I saw a vaguely blue, translucent flash, and Kyle's head flew back as if it had been punched. I took a few steps back, away from his intoxicating presence.

Right, Master effect, something in his saliva or something like that. Still, I felt great, I wanted him. Or rather, I wanted just anyone right now. I retreated into my swarm, focussing my mind on the buzzing of the insect, calling them forth, creating distance between me and Kyle. I saw something weird between us, vaguely blue-ish, but it disappeared behind a curtain of bugs. When I tried to figure out what had happened to it using my swarm, I didn't sense anything. Was it because of the master effect? Did it cause me to hallucinate him being thrown back? No, that didn't make any sense. But what else could possibly explain it? An invisible stranger, able to punch people without breaking cover somehow?

 _"_ _Holy fuck did you see that?! Ghost punch baby! Right in the face, he couldn't even see it coming! Fuck yes, I'm brains_ ** _and_** _brawn now!"_

The bugs swarmed Kyle, gnawing at his flesh, but he ignored it. My initial thoughts had been correct; he was a brute of some sort.

Kyle rushed forwards, to where I'd been standing. To where, right now, a mass of cockroaches and flies was pretending to be my body. He opened his mouth, baring his teeth, rushing forwards at nothing. As he burst through the mass of cockroaches, I finally got a good look at him. His flesh was falling off, and there wasn't any blood. Beneath his skin, something hard yet shiny glistened, his true form, I suspected. Was he like Hookwolf? A tiny layer of flesh with a changer form always hiding beneath? Was Kyle someone that was just pretending to be a normal human?

 _"_ _Okay, yeah, so, not a movie vampire at all. Hides in fake human skin, the better to ambush prey, the true form is never shown to normal people, explains the rippling beneath his skin. Feasts on people, drinks their blood. Blood is a source of power, blood is stored somewhere, From the way it moves, the way the slimy skin ripples around over a bag of liquid and the bone formation, blood is probably stored in the belly. Cut open the belly, defeat the beast. You hear that Taylor? You need to eviscerate him!"_

He dashed forwards again, much faster than I was, trying to break up my swarm clones. It didn't matter though. Yes, he was faster, but I had bugs all over his slimy, monstrous body. I knew what he was doing at about the same moment he did.

Three times, he charged at a clone. Once, he almost hit me, but I danced away at the last moment, making him think he'd hit a clone instead of me.

Problem was, I couldn't go on like this. Sure, I dodged him for now, but he was faster than me, stronger than me, and my bugs couldn't hurt his true form.

"You think you're hot shit? I defeated Lung, I went toe-to-toe with Leviathan, I'm not going to let some pretty boy drug me up you hear me!" I taunted.

 _"_ _Come on Taylor, you have to admit, for a bloodsucking vampire, he is actually pretty hot. Also shit, I mean, his beauty is only skin-deep, literally. Anyway, Belly stabbing time… I'm still not sure if you can hear me now, you know."_

He heard me, and dashed forwards, straight at me, not at a swarm clone. I took out my knife, and ducked, the swarm of bugs hiding me from his sight. Timing it, I turned my knife upwards, and swung up the moment he was above me, his claws swiping just above my head.

I'd set it up perfectly, stepping out of his strike with minimal effort and piercing the soft skin of his belly with my blade. Within seconds, blood started pouring out and the beast, Kyle, screamed out in anger.

I took that as my chance to run. I wasn't sure if my hit had taken him out or not, but if it hadn't then I didn't want to be here when he recovered.

I suddenly realized that, just maybe, I'd just killed him by stabbing him in the gut like that. I didn't feel all that bad about it, the rapey son of a bitch…

As I walked away, and the screaming creature left my range, I calmed myself down, put my swarm away and hid the bloody combat knife in my backpack after wiping it off. I felt the spit-poison, still coursing through my veins, making me euphoric, influencing my thoughts. I'd never done any drugs myself, had always seen them as some black hole in which people disappeared, ruining themselves. I could understand why now. I had almost done so myself, had almost said yes to Kyle's offer, just to get more of that amazing feeling. The warmth of his embrace, the substance, whatever it was, coursing through my veins, erasing my worries.

The only thing that had saved me was that strange translucent glow, the thing that had punched Kyle in the face somehow.

 _"_ _So… what's the plan? I'm guessing you still can't hear me huh? Makes sense, I think that punch took a lot out of me somehow, affecting the world like that made me tired, in a way. But, if I can punch, then maybe I can make you hear what I'm saying._

 _No, wait, you can already hear me, you just don't really know it. I mean, you stabbed him exactly where you needed to stab him. Now, I know you're good, but you're not that good, so you heard me somehow, and you followed my advice."_

I wasn't sure what to do. The drug still coursed through my vein, I didn't have a place to sleep, and that, well, vampire cape, was probably still coming after me.

I sighed. If only the other Undersiders had been here. I could really use Brian's steadfast professionalism here, or Lisa's advice. Even Rachel and Alec were a lot more independent than I was. They'd operated alone before, lived on the streets, fended for themselves. Me? I'd found a team on my first night out, back in Brockton Bay.

I needed help, I just couldn't talk myself out of it anymore.

Except I couldn't go to the cops, because they'd put me in the system, and I couldn't go to the PRT, because they'd put me in the system and also put me in the Wards.

I took out the piece of paper I'd gotten that morning, and looked at it, wondering.

The piece of paper contained an address, and it was signed _Myrddin, professional Wizard._

Could I trust him? Or was he just going to bring me to the PRT? Did I even have a choice? Could I afford not to trust him?

 _"_ _Seriously Taylor? Myrddin of all people? He's a lunatic, a full-grown man pretending to be a…._

 _Damnit… he's not pretending isn't he… he's a wizard, a real one, a real flesh and blood wizard because magic is real and ghosts are real and vampires are real, and therefore wizards are also real. He's a real wizard, and he's not even hiding it, people just think he's crazy. I have to admit, it's a stroke of genius. Hide yourself, and people start wondering about you. Come out and tell everyone you're a wizard, and everyone just thinks it's just image, a theme or a delusion. And the best part is, if anyone really needs a real wizard and knows it, they know exactly where to look! It wouldn't be any more effective if he, say, put an ad in the phonebook or something like that. How the fuck did I only figure this out now?"_

Myrddin's home was… not what I'd expected. Even though I wasn't sure what I'd expected. Maybe some sort of ancient stone tower, or a dungeon somewhere, perhaps an old fourteenth century castle with lightning in the background. Or, if he didn't extend the whole wizard act to his home, then maybe a nice townhouse paid for with his substantial superhero salary, or a fancy apartment near the PRT HQ.

But now, it wasn't anything like that. Instead, it was in a boring little apartment, in the basement of an old wooden boarding house, which was now an apartment building. The area itself was boring too. The neighbourhood was quiet, and the only thing of note a busted up Volkswagen Beetle in at least three different colours.

I looked at his door. It was made out of hardwood, and reinforced with metal on the sides. The strangest thing was that I couldn't detect any bugs behind the door. For all I knew, there was absolutely nothing behind it.

I knocked on the door, overpowering my apprehension at talking to the Protectorate hero again. I still hadn't quite recovered from the hallucinations he'd shown me, I could still see them in my mind's eye, like it had been seconds ago, not more than half a day. Kyle's poison still rushed through my veins as well, only slowly being broken down. It helped to think about my swarm, but I couldn't completely ignore it.

 _"_ _So…. Not what I expected from a famous wizard. Nice door though, means he plays fast and loose with the unwritten rules, at least the parts regarding his own identity. Also explains the part where you know where he lives... how did you get the address anyway?"_

It took a while, but eventually, I heard footsteps, followed by a voice calling out.

"Who's there?"

I recognized the voice, it was Myrddin's.

"It's me," I said, hoping that he would remember me.

He evidently did, and opened his door.

Myrddin was dressed in, well, not very much at all. He had underwear, a shirt and a bathrobe. It didn't look like I'd woken him up, but I had most certainly disturbed him.

"Hell's bells, you look like shit. What happened?" He asked.

"Some crazy changer tried to recruit me for his gang, someone called Blanka or something like that."

 _"_ _Bianca Taylor, it was Bianca."_

"Bianca, I presume? She leads the local vampires. This attacker, did he bite you? Please tell me he didn't bite you or did whatever the red court does to turn people?" Myrddin asked.

"No, he didn't bite me. He, well, he kissed me. Mouth-on-mouth. Some sort of master effect or a drug or something," I explained. "I got away, but, I think someone helped me. Are there any invisible capes in the city I should know about?" I asked

 _"_ _Yes Taylor, there is someone like that, she's called Tattletale, she's your best friend, and she's a ghost. Also, I punch vampires now. I wonder if Myrddin can see me. Hey Myrddin, can you see me?"_

Myrddin didn't immediately reply, and looked around the corridor behind me, as if he was scanning for an invisible stalker. Had I made a mistake and brought my assailant here somehow?

"You can come in Taylor, the both of you can." Myrddin said. Wait, both of me? Was this the crazy wizard thing, or the invisible stalker thing?

 _"_ _So, you can see me right? Hear me? Touch me? Feel me?"_

Either way, I made my way inside, entering his dusty old apartment.

It was dark, barely lit by a small fireplace and a few candles. I couldn't find any electrical lights, and even his small kitchenette contained an old wood burning stove instead of a proper place to cook. Myrddin, evidently, lived his theme, even back home.

The floor was covered in nice, cozy rugs, and on the walls were bookshelves and tapestries. There was one door, leading to what seemed to have been his bedroom, and I spotted a hinged trapdoor leading down even lower. A large old couch was in a room, and I spotted a human skull on a table somewhere. Myrddin the wizard most definitely lived up to the name.

"I'm guessing you're tired?" he asked. Before I could answer, he continued speaking. "And also, quite obviously, drugged. I know what the vampire used, and you'll be loopy for a while, but it should be out of your system in the morning, so you should probably sleep it off before we talk about the situation, and continue our conversation from this morning. You know, the one we were having before you ran away in a panic."

I nodded at that. I wasn't exactly proud of the way I'd handled that conversation. Not only had I been unable to bring up so much as a single argument and sat there like, well, like the girl I had been in school, I'd freaked out after seeing one of Myrddin's many powers. "I think… he said his name was Kyle," I replied, trying to show him I wasn't a total shrinking violet.

"Tomorrow, Taylor. You and I can talk tomorrow. For now, make yourself comfortable on the couch, and I'll get you a blanket," he said.

I did as he asked, and sat down on his couch. It was old and faded, and one half of it was taken by a large cat that purred at my approach. As I sat down, the animal stood up, and moved himself to my lap. Seconds later, Myrddin grabbed a thick tapestry from the wall and threw it at me.

 _"_ _You have a cat? Of course you have a cat, you're a wizard. Do you have a broom? can you fly? Is there like, wizard school? You're a total Hufflepuff right? Don't you get in trouble by telling everyone you're a wizard? Are you seriously going straight back to porking that lady in your bedroom once Taylor's settled in? You're thinking about it aren't you? Also, you still haven't told me whether you could really see me or not. I mean, you obviously know I'm here, but you're ignoring me. Could you at least tell Taylor I'm back? That she's not alone anymore? Seriously, this is important you know."_

"Please don't tell the PRT about all of this, mister Myrddin," I said, pleading with him.

"Mister is the name of my cat, and call me Harry," Myrddin, or Harry, replied. Well, that sort of resembled an answer didn't it?

At the same time, a human skull that Harry had in the corner of the room suddenly had its eyes lit up. I looked at it. Was it a cheap stage trick using LED's? Another one of Harry's many powers?

"Well hello there young lady, it's very nice to meet you, very nice indeed," it said.

"Uhmmm, hello?" I replied.

 _"_ _Oooh, talking skull! Now that's interesting! So what, you're a necromancer too Harry?"_

I got the distinct impression the skull looked at me when it started speaking again.

"I wasn't talking to you, but hello to you too miss, I'm guessing you're another one of those wet cats that Harry tends to bring in?"

Before I could say anything, Harry walked towards the skull, and picked it up.

"Shut up Bob, I need you for something," he said.

"Not as much as I need to look at that young lady over there! I mean, skintight clothes on a body like that? Damn." Bob replied.

 _"_ _Who, me? Honestly, I'm charmed. Although, by the looks of it, I'm guessing you're several hundreds of years old, so also eww?"_

I sank back into the couch, trying not to show how tired and scared I was, and how little sense everything in Harry's house made. Drug-spitting master-changers… Why did I decide to come to Chicago?

Oh yeah, I didn't, the government had decided that for me.

"And you? You're coming along too, I know you can hear me even if it's hard for me to hear you," Harry said. Again, I got the distinct impression he was talking to some sort of crazy invisible stalker or something like that, but I already felt myself drift away as Harry made his way back to his, already occupied, bedroom.

Again, the talking skull thing called out.

"Hello there Susan, nice to see you like this, Harry arranged a double date!"

I ignored it, and sank away in the soft couch, Mister purring away in my arms.

I was violently awakened by someone else knocking on the door. Now knowing what to do, I stayed in bed, or rather, couch. Mister agreed with that decision. After several knocks, and half a minute, Harry entered the room from his bedroom. I pretended to be sleeping. I didn't want to bother him, and I still felt light in my head from the poison.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"It's me, Michael, you won't pick up the phone Harry, it's important."

Harry opened the door, and from my position on the couch, I could see an older man standing in the doorway, his hair greying, but his frame bulky with muscle. I realized that I recognized him. The man had been at the Leviathan fight with some sort of crazy sword.

"Phone's on the fritz Michael, someone's coming by in two days. What is it this time?"

"The vampires, red court. They're active again. Have been for a few days now, but tonight something's gotten them stirred up." Michael said.

Harry glanced at me, obviously convinced that vampires were real, and that I'd fought one. That I was responsible for getting them all riled up.

Of course, a vampire, or at least a member of the vampire gang. It fit, sort of. The charm, the horror beneath its skin, the dangerous skin. It hadn't been very Stokeresque, but it fit the theme of the gang. I wondered why they'd wanted me? Did they think the bugs could provide some sort of _'_ _children of the night'_ vibe?

"I'll be right there, give me a moment," Harry said. He returned to his room, leaving the door open behind him.

He was talking to someone, I couldn't really understand what he was saying, but when I sent in a fly, it found someone else lying in his bed, a woman. I quickly led the fly away again, giving her some privacy.

After a few minutes, Harry returned, this time wearing the same clothes he had worn that morning. Not his costume, but not normal person clothes either. He took his wizarding act very seriously. Almost serious enough to make me believe it. Almost. In addition to his normal clothes, he had a small pendant of an eye, hanging around his neck on a little cord, dangling just above the pentacle amulet that had come to represent Myrddin to just about anyone in the United States.

I snuck another glance at Michael, who was looking at an empty spot in the room, a spot which Harry was also looking at.

"And you," Harry said, pointing with his finger at the spot like someone was standing there. " _You_ , are coming with us. Because you can help us, because we need to find you a proper sanctuary, and because I'm not leaving you alone with Bob."

 _"_ _What have you got against me and Bob being together? Is it because he's a massive perv? No, it's not just that isn't it, there's something else, something about him and me, my power. Anyway, what's this about a sanctuary? Does it help against the sun? Because that part of being a ghost sucks."_

"You sure about this Harry? Shouldn't you just lay her to rest?" Michael asked. I sure as hell hoped he wasn't talking about me, and closed my eyes again for good measure. Mister still purred, lying against me. Luckily, it turned out that Michael was talking about the invisible stalker instead.

"We talked it out, and she's not what she seems to be, at least not entirely," Harry said. "Plus, she still has her power for some reason, so I think she can help."

 _"_ _Agreed, I'm not just a pretty spectral face, you know! I've got a soul and everything! Also, you can see me! Without needing to enchant a thingy to help! Does that mean you're a massive pervert like Bob is?"_

"Oh I know, you're both a pretty face and annoying. The real problem is that I don't have any ectoplasmic duct-tape to shut you up," Harry replied, evidently talking to the non-existent invisible stalker. It was becoming quite clear this was just an elaborate shared hallucination.

"I'm sure she means well," Michael said. "There is good in her, even if it's hidden. The Lord would not have brought her back if she did not deserve a second chance." Michael said.

I tried looking again, figuring out why they both seemed focused on that one spot in the room, and glimpsed something.

It was almost entirely see-though, and wispy at the edges, but just for a second, I thought I saw a naked young woman, or maybe a teenage girl. Maybe a teenage girl wearing a skintight outfit, just about the height Lisa had been.

I must have still been seeing things because of the drug. I closed my eyes again, trying to ignore the spectral Lisa. Even if there was an invisible untouchable parahuman around, it was obviously the drugs and the tiredness that made me think it was my old teammate.

"And her?" Michael said, this time pointing towards me. Holding your eyes closed is easy when you have bugs everywhere to see things for you.

"Mostly related to my other job, better to let her rest now and handle it in the morning. Actually, early afternoon is more likely, I know how hard it is to get a teenager out of bed," Harry explained.

 _"_ _You'd be surprised; she usually stood up at the crack of dawn to go running. Totally unnecessary if you ask me, but whatever."_

"I won't even start about the last woman in your house," Michael said. "You already know my opinion on that one."

He sounded like he disapproved of something. Not of the woman herself, but of her being here? Was it because he was the religious type and wanted Harry to get married?

Slowly, I drifted back to sleep, trying not to dream about my dead friends, and working through the worst of Kyle's poisonous saliva. Mister purred and turned around in my hands, licking my fingers for a bit. He was nice, if way too big for a normal cat.


	5. Chapter 4

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 4**  
"Oh great, what is it this time?" Susan asked, upon seeing that I just walked in with Bob's skull under my arm.

"Haunted supervillain, no biggie," I replied.

"Haunted by what? Also, that was a supervillain?"

"I'm not sure yet. Bob, what does she have to say for herself?" I asked the knowledge spirit. I could see that Bob's eyes, or rather, the tiny yellow lights in the eyes of the skull he was inhabiting, were looking at an empty spot, roughly at the height where you would expect a supervillain's butt to be located. Bob was nothing if not classy, but the girl's skin-tight spectral outfit most certainly didn't help.

"She's saying her name is Tattletale, that she's a friend of Skitter's, that she's not entirely sure why she's a weird ghost, and that she wants to make out with Susan," Bob replied. Being a spirit himself, he saw the world differently, and unlike me, he didn't need to use his third eye to see a weak ghost like Tattletale's.

The question, of course, was how she'd made her way all the way over here if she was a weak ghost, and why it had seemed like she still had the extradimensional parasite attached to her.

The third eye, wizard vision, the mind's eye, true sight, whatever you called it, it was a way of looking at the world and seeing things for what they really are. In a way, it was rather similar to a soul gaze, but it wasn't as intimate, and not reciprocal. With it, I could see the naked energies that made up the world, rather than only seeing the truth about an individual person.

With Tattletale's ghost, it had been somewhere between a normal ghost and a, well, parahuman. It was clearly a ghost, the imprint of leftover psychic energy left after death, but there was more to it. And where Taylor was being influenced by the extradimensional slug that had attached itself to her, with Tattletale it seemed difficult to say where she ended and the creature began, and I wasn't sure about whether that was because she was further along, or because she was a ghost.

I'd heard about parahuman ghosts before, once. Over in Europe, a parahuman serial killer had been killed in battle, and returned as a ghost. But while the ghost showed similarities, it had merely been a very strong ghost, without its parahuman abilities.

"For some reason, I'm rather sceptical about the last part of that claim," Susan said.

"Tattletale huh, I think I wrote that name down somewhere," I said. For everyone else, it would be easy to look up the name. They'd grab a computer, go on PHO, search for the name, and find everything they needed. Me? I made technology break down just by being around it, courtesy of me being a wizard.

"Girl, blonde, sixteen years old, ran away from her parents after triggering, joined the same team Skitter later joined, the Undersiders, wears a skin-tight lavender-black outfit. She's a powerful Thinker, and for a supervillain, she has a relatively clean record," Susan supplied.

I gave her a look, wondering how she'd gotten so interested in random teenage girls from a different city.

"What? I looked her up for my article on the whole bug thing," she said.

"She's also a massive motor mouth, courtesy of not having to stop to breathe, and she's saying she's a poltergeist," Bob said.

"A poltergeist? What's a poltergeist?" I asked Bob. I wasn't very up to date on my ghost lore., I knew about wraiths and spectres, but I'd never heard of poltergeists outside of shitty horror movies, and I hadn't seen all that many of those. I dealt with enough of that stuff in my daily life.

"It's not actually a thing, she's just saying that because she punched a vampire," Bob translated for us.

"Well, I guess I'll have to figure out what to do with her," I said to no-one in particular. Teenage parahuman ghosts, just what I needed. What I should have done, had she been a normal ghost, was lay her to rest. A ghost was just a psychic footprint, not an actual person, but something weird was going on here. She seemed to have some sort of self-awareness, had a soul and everything, and she was a teenage girl, both a woman and a child. My chivalric streak, old-fashioned as it may be, wouldn't allow me to just do away with her.

"In case you hadn't guessed, she's asking you not to exorcise her, and also wondering if you actually can, seeing how you don't look like a priest and everything," Bob said, continuing updates on the activities of the ghost girl.

First of all, I'd have to cast a spell that allowed me to actually see the girl. Bob was useful, but I couldn't do everything through him. Then, I'd have to get her some kind of sanctuary, something that would protect her from things like sunlight, like how the skull protected Bob. Preferably, it would be something that allowed her to interact with the world: she was obviously self-aware, and I did not want to doom her to a life of wandering around, unable to interact with anyone but Bob. No-one deserved that. I'd also have to talk with her, lay out some ground rules. Troubled maiden she might be, but she was still a supervillain, or had been at least. It wouldn't do to have her go off causing trouble and robbing banks the moment she didn't need me anymore.

***

It had taken a few hours of Susan getting annoyed, Bob making lewd comments, and Tattletale apparently floating upside down a whole lot, but I'd finally gotten everything together for my little ghostbracelet. Now I'd prefer to do this downstairs, in my lab, instead of the rather cramped bedroom, but I really didn't want to wake up the teenage supervillain sleeping in my living room. So, as Susan was using Bob to talk to Tattletale and ask for info about some sort of article she was working on, I grabbed a piece of chalk, and used it to draw a circle around me. Once I completed the diagram, I send some energy into it, turning it from a chalk drawing into an actual magic circle.

The circle was probably the most basic of magics. Properly empowered, a circle could keep out magical energies, as well as keep them in. It was useful for all kind of things. You could protect yourself from outside attackers, you could keep magical energies or creatures locked within it, and you could insulate yourself from magical energies. In this case, it was that last feature of the circle I needed.

Almost immediately, the constant background hum lessened as I was insulated from all the other energies. Then, I looked at my little makeshift bracelet, a knickknack with an eye on it. It didn't actually mean anything, but it was a useful tool to focus magical energies on, especially if the spell involved was based around sight. I gathered magical energy, and started chanting. "Spiritus Visus, Spiritus Visus," while putting the energy into the little knick-knack.

After about half a minute, the spell was completed, and while I started affixing the knick-knack to a little chain, I suddenly heard a new voice.

"So I'm pretty sure you didn't actually need to do that in Latin, so why not choose a language you're actually good at?" the girl said.

I looked at her, the spectral body now clearly visible, but the alien creature behind it still hidden. She was young, probably on the cusp of adulthood, with the kind of body that made creeps on the internet create a countdown. She was one of the few female parahumans that could actually pull off the skintight outfit thing properly without having to resort to photoshop, and I understood why Bob had been so impressed.

She had long dark blonde hair, reaching past her shoulders, green, inquisitive eyes, and a set of freckles on her face that made her look adorable rather than gorgeous. She was wearing her costume, but no mask, and she was hanging just slightly above the floor.

"The language insulates your mind from the spell, and using an unfamiliar one means that you won't accidentally throw around fireballs in polite conversation," I answered. I had chosen Latin because, well, because I was bad at it. I'd followed a correspondence course, given that the White Council's meetings were held in Latin, but the course had mostly just made me aware of how bad I was at the language.

"Sooooo, what now?" Tattletale asked.

"Now you're going to take our spectral ass into the other room, because you're an underage ghost and I'm doing things that aren't PG. After that, I'll get you a sanctuary, preferably before sunrise, and I'll figure out what to do then when I figure out what to do with your friend," I replied.

"What, you're not going to arrest me? I can't help but notice you have some handcuffs there," she replied.

"You're a smart girl, you'll figure that one out," Susan supplied.

"Fine fine, I'll let you get to your carnal desires," Tattletale said, slowly floating through the door to the living room.

"Also, I can float through doors now, which is absolutely great. I bet you can't do that!" Tattetale shouted, just barely audible on the other side of the thick old wood.

I turned back to Susan, thinking back to what we'd been doing before Taylor had interrupted us.

"So, where were we?" I asked her.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she replied.

I thought about it, while most f my brain was starting to get occupied with very different things than thinking about stuff I'd forgotten, when my eyes suddenly went past Bob's skull, sitting on the nightstand.

Somehow, some way, he managed to make a disembodied human skull look smug. Smug and naughty.

***

I looked back on my house once more time, hoping that nothing would burn down in my absence. I had a supervillain sleeping on my couch, a naked journalist in my bed, and a talking skull stashed in a pile of dirty laundry, so it would probably be okay. In the meantime, I was going vampire hunting with a knight of the cross and a smug dead teenager. Perfectly normal day, or rather, night.

"So, shouldn't you be wearing your robe and wizard hat?" Tattletale asked.

"When killing vampires? Not exactly good PR," I replied.

The real problem, of course, was that not everyone in the protectorate and the PRT were aware that Bianca's group consisted of actual bloodsucking inhuman monstrosities, rather than normal supervillains.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. So, what's the deal?" she asked.

"I got a call from father Forthill, he had a young girl show up, asking for sanctuary. Said she was being hunted by vampires," Michael supplied. "He called me because he thought the girl's clothes were suspicious."

"Anyone we know?" I asked him.

"I don't think so, he said she was wearing a robe of some sort, and not like the one you or Wanton wear," Michael said.

"Let's see, robe, teenager, girl, not a local, doesn't have any back-up because she ran to a church instead, pretty sure it's Rune," Tattletale said.

"Rune?" Michael asked.

"Striker, telekinetic, can move around large boulders and such. She was sent to juvie and triggered in solitary, after which she joined some family members in the Empire 88 back in Brockton. Lost most of her team, doesn't have a secret identity. She was probably looking for a new team or something like that, and not interested in joining the vampire club. Given that Skitter was approached the same night, I presume this Bianca is trying to recruit as many parahumans as she can in one go, probably preying on the ones without support structure, using that spit of theirs to addict them into working for her."

I had to admit, having a high-level Thinker on our side was actually rather useful.

"So, the question is, who's their next target?" Michael said.

"Well, given their strategies, I'm pretty sure they already got either Mush, Skidmark or Squealer. One of them probably told her about the strategy. Problem is, I don't know which one of them survived the battle. Oustide of that, I think we're better off looking for locals that fit the bill," Tattletale said.

"There's one of those I can think of, but we've never even seen the person responsible, so I don't think Bianca's people will be able to find them either," I replied.

"So, what's the plan then?" Michael asked.

"Long-term? I'll inform the PRT, and we'll focus on getting anyone working for Bianca out alive. Her targets are parahuman, and those are worth too much to kill without reason. In the short-term, we might be able to track down her spawn with the help of our new assistant," I said.

"Ooooh, vampire hunting, cool, do I get a top hat?" Tattletale asked.

"No, and you can't wear sunglasses indoors either," I replied.

"Awwww,"

"Let's get into the car, Tattletale, you can show us the way,"

"We'll need to hurry, before they get away," Michael said. "We can't let them go on and corrupt more people."

"Agreed," I said, as I walked to the Blue Beetle.

Michael walked to the other side of the car, as Tattletale froze in mid-air.

"Seriously? Seriously? That's your car? Are you fucking kidding me?" she asked. "I know the government doesn't pay much, but seriously?"

"Should you really be complaining about the transport he's providing?" Michael asked.

"Just saying, it's not very inconspicuous,"

"We don't need to be inconspicuous, the lord will guide our way,"

"You know, I'd say you're full of shit, but… God's real isn't he? Just like ghosts, and wizards, and vampires? Sweet baby Jesus I need to start going to church," Tattletale replied.

"Wouldn't that be difficult? Sanctified ground and everything?" I asked as I entered the car, motioning for Tattletale to take a seat in the back. I wasn't entirely sure how the protections provided by a house of faith worked, just that they worked.

"If she is properly repentant, I should be able to figure something out with father Forthill," Michael replied.

I turned my key, and activated the engine of the old car, hoping desperately that it would hold out until we managed to find our target.

***

The area where Skitter had been attacked was somewhere in the city center, in alleyways between old, tall buildings. It didn't take long to find the rather large amount of bugs gathered around a puddle of blood on the floor.

"This is where she stabbed it, right in the stomach," Lisa, as I'd learned she preferred, told me.

"It showed its true form?" Michael asked her.

"Yeah, the bugs gnawed straight through the flesh suit. Skitter's really terrifying when she wants to be," Lisa replied.

"I can see that, you know, what with the spiders and everything," I replied.

"Says the guy throwing fireballs around like it's nothing," she replied.

"Focus, we need to stop this vampire," Michael said.

"Let's see, from the trail of blood, the lighting, relative traffic density in the surrounding area…" Lisa mumbled. "That way," she pointed.

The way she randomly picked a decision and stuck with it strangely reminded me of the way Michael would sometimes be. Only instead of working through faith, she got her knowledge from, well, from wherever her power got the knowledge.

We followed her as she told us where to go, turning through alleyways between old buildins that had been low quality when they were built, let alone now. Every now and then, she'd point out a few drops of blood on the floor, or some slime where the vampire had brushed against a wall too roughly. Once, Michael spotted a piece of skin, part of the beast's fleshy outer suit, the part that it used to pretend to be human.

Eventually, while scouting ahead, Lisa stopped after looking around a corner.

"Guys? I think we're too late," she said, her voice trembling. Whatever she had seen had obviously shaken her.

Upon seeing her reaction, Michael drew his sword, Amoracchius, from its scabbard. If Michael was to be believed, the holy blade contained one of the nails that had been used in Christ's crucifixion. I wasn't entirely sure I believed that, but it was very clear that it was very powerful, a symbol of faith in its own right. Right now, it glowed faintly with a blue light. In battle, it would look like it was on fire, slicing straight through any defences, magical or normal. Even Leviathan had feared the blade.

For just a second, I wondered if Leviathan was something new that was related to the parahuman phenomenon that had only been named after the biblical creature, or whether it was actually related to it. I put the thought out of my mind, I could speculate on it when we weren't in mortal danger.

Following Michael's example I drew my blasting rod in one hand and my staff in the other, and removed the safety on my punching ring.

"It's… well, he's distracted, angry, almost feral."

"Just stay behind me," Michael said, trying to sound reassuring.

When Michael and I turned the corner, I saw what had gotten Lisa so worked up. The vampire, a slimy, gargoyle-like creature, was crouched on all fours, lapping up drips of blood from the floor. Its victim, a homeless man that had evidently been sleeping in the rough, had been disembowelled, his corpse draped over a shopping cart filled with bags, sucked dry of blood.

I felt something rise up in my throat, and swallowed, trying to keep it down. Michael had no such problems, or perhaps he simply had the strength of will to ignore it completely. He held up his sword, and charged forwards at the bloodsucking beast.

Maybe it was the sound we had made, maybe the vampire had spotted us, or maybe the holy light coming from Amoracchius had drawn its attention. It didn't matter what had set him off, but the vampire managed to retreat away from Michael by jumping upwards, and then hanging on to the side of the building, perched on the walls like a spider.

It turned its head, blood still dripping from its inhuman jaw, and looked at me.

"You, the wizard. Good, if I kill you, Bianca will forgive me for my failure," it said.

Oh great, amazing, the vampire was out for my head, and desperate enough to go for it.

I didn't take the time to think of any witty retort. Instead, I just raised by blasting rod.

"Fuego!"

The fireball flew from the tip of my wand, straight at the vampire. At the last moment, It jumped, trying to dodge the roaring flames. It was too late, and the flames clipped its legs, setting it on fire.

It then crashed to the ground, stopping, dropping and rolling to try and extinguish the flames. Seeing the damage I'd caused, I took out my staff, and called upon my parahuman ability. Deep within me, I focussed on the enchantment I'd bound it with, making sure to only let through the things I wanted to use. With my staff, I drew a glowing sigil in the air, connecting to a pocket dimension I'd prepared some time ago.

This one specifically, I had filled with water, and with the help of father Forthill, it was now filled with holy water.

I unleashed it, an explosive spray of holy water blanketing the alley, the burning building, and the vampire. Michael, somehow, managed to be in exactly the place he needed to be for the water spray to miss him.

"I have to admit, that went a lot smoother than I'd expected," Lisa said, still slightly shocked by the sight. "Almost anti-climactically so."

"Could you please never say that again?" I asked her.

"Why? I mean, you do understand that it doesn't actually influence further events right?"

"You say that, but, how many world-shaking revelations have you been wrong about in the last few days?" I answered. As we were talking, Michael was cleaning his sword, and I was wondering what to do about the vampire. I'd probably have to call it in, pretend to explain the situation to my bosses in the PRT. I wasn't the only person in town with fire powers, but I couldn't let them think that one of the more innocent villains was responsible for killing the vampire, or its prey.

"Wait, you mean that shit actually works too?"

"I don't think so, but I've been wrong before."

"I need to go; can you two handle this situation?" Michael suddenly asked.

"Another hunch? Guidance from above? Sure, I can handle this," I answered.

Lisa and I walked, or hovered in her case - she seemed to like her newfound ability to fly - back towards the Blue Beetle, only for my worst fears to come true.

For the past few weeks, the PRT had gotten sporadic reports about destroyed cars and other wreckage, the metal reshaping itself into different forms, like it was some sort of demented, animalistic transformer. It left the vehicles completely useless for anything but modern art exhibitions, but it wasn't associated with any violence or criminal behaviour. For now, the perpetrator had been assumed to be a new parahuman testing their power, someone who while not very cognizant of collateral damage, was probably not a problem or a threat.

Before now, I had agreed with that designation. It made sense, I was sure it wasn't a spirit or anything like that that was responsible, and it seemed like something that was very much somebody else's problem.

This time however, it was personal.

The Blue Beetle was gone from the location where I'd parked it, and a couple hundred feet from where I'd left it, there was a piece of wreckage in the exact colours of the vehicle. That is to say, blue, green, red and white. Once, the Blue Beetle had been entirely blue, but that had been a few years ago.

Opposite it was the wreckage of what seemed to have been a nondescript white van, twisted much like the Blue Beetle had been. From the looks of it, the two cars had been fighting each other, as the asphalt and pavement in the area had been torn apart.

Someone had used my car as some sort of weapon, and that someone wasn't me. It was actually rather insulting.

It also made me rather angry, seeing how the Beetle was one of the few vehicles that didn't consistently break down when I drove it.

"At least it went out with a bang?" Lisa supplied, holding up her ghost hands, and I wasn't quite sure if she was taunting me or trying to comfort me. It was probably both.

***

"Harry? Please don't tell me you're involved in this one?" Lieutenant Karin Murphy asked upon seeing me.

"Not this one, other than being the victim," I replied.

Murphy was a short-statured woman, with blue eyes and blonde hair. That last part wasn't immediately obvious, since she was wearing the type of face-covering helmets PRT troopers were known for. She was rather high up in the ranks, usually serving as squad leader, but sometimes coordinating multiple squads on larger operations. In addition to that, she was also one of the few people in the PRT that actually believed my claims of being a wizard, and believed in the existence of the supernatural in addition to the parahuman.

"I thought I recognized that piece of junk from something. I have to say, I don't see any difference."

"Haha Murph, very funny."

Secretly, I had to admit that it was indeed rather funny. Lisa agreed, and she was rolling on the floor laughing, only instead of rolling on the floor, she was doing so in mid-air. I was pretty sure she was overreacting for comedic effect, but that didn't make it sting any less.

" _Not this one_... dare I ask?" she asked.

"Vampire, three hundred meters into the dark alleyways. It was feeding on a homeless guy after having been fought off by a parahuman it was send to recruit," I told her.

"You want me to handle it? Keep Revel off your back?" she asked.

"Would be nice, I have too much on my plate as it is," I replied. "By the way, can I catch a ride to HQ? I need to get there before sunrise."

"Sure, some of the guys will be heading back, I'll see you later?" she asked

"Sure," I replied.

***

Lisa and I arrived at the PRT HQ with an hour or two to spare, and made our way towards the wards HQ. More specifically, towards Tecton's workshop. Lisa's constant need to give input on anything from people's showering habits to their driving skills had given me some inspiration for her sanctuary, but it would have to be one of those permanently borrowing without asking situations.

The Wards HQ itself, with its interchangeable, moveable walls and its big set of tv screens that was, officially, there to watch key points in the city, and unofficially there to watch movies and play games, was almost empty, except for Wanton, who had apparently decided to stay the night.

Wanton was, simply said, a fan. Of me. That was weird, because I knew myself, and I wasn't the type of person that should have fans of any kind.

Worse however, was that he was also a fan of what was, in his eyes, my 'pretending to be a wizard' act. He was utterly convinced that I was just some sort of crazy Trump, and he wanted other people to think he was a wizard as well.

Most of that was achieved by wearing a costume with lots of flowing cloth, and yelling a Latin catchphrase whenever he used his breaker ability. When confronted with the fact that he could only cast a single 'spell', he simply told people that that made sense, because he was only an apprentice wizard.

It would all be very flattering if it wasn't so very annoying.

"Hey Myrddin, whatcha doing?" he asked enthusiastically, immediately launching himself from his position on the couch once he saw me come in.

"Nothing much, say, do you remember those costumes you guys wore to cape-con last year?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you happen to know where that little floaty thing Tecton made for Cuff's costume is?"

"Sure, you need it for something?" he replied.

"Just, you know, a power thing," I explained, keeping it vague.

Obviously, this had been the wrong move, as Wanton suddenly got very interested.

"Can I watch? Are you making something cool with a new power?" he asked.

"I need it to make a sanctuary for the ghost of a dead supervillain," I told him.

"Oh, so you have a new master power? Making ghosts of people? Sounds cool, I don't think PR will like it though," Wanton said.

Tattletale, in the meantime, was just laughing her spectral ass off, obviously enjoying the fact that I had fans. Well, we'd see who had the last laugh, she still didn't know what she was getting into.

At a rather frantic pace, Wanton led me to the storage area, digging through several discarded items before finding the little contraption. Flying objects weren't Tecton's specialty, but he was good when he put some work into it, and it was a rather simple piece of technology once you got past the anti-gravity components. The best thing was, it was one of the things he'd built after his power had managed to adapt to the general background effects of magical energies, so it wouldn't short out whenever I sneezed in its direction.

"Oh no, oh hell no, you absolute bastard, no way I'm going in there… Although…. I could actually do some great stuff with that, I think. People wouldn't even be able to complain that I was being annoying, I'd just be in character," Lisa said, finally understanding the fate I had in store for her.

"So, we're doing this now?" Wanton asked.

"Patience, my young noodle, I want to do this properly, we'll need to go to my lab first," I replied.

"Cool, cool cool cool, you think I can get a lab?" he asked.

My lab away from lab, as I called it, was a small area the PRT had set aside to indulge me in what they deemed to be the more arcane part of my powerset. If Myrddin thought he needed a copper circle, then it's easier to provide him with one than to tell him his powers don't work like that.

It was all rather basic, and for any actual magical research I'd have to go back home to my basement, but it looked good on the tour, and it had a simple summoning table and a small workshop for when I needed to replace my blasting wand or my staff, the only object that my actual parahuman ability used.

I placed the little machine in the middle of the circle, closing it by turning a stone that made the copper line complete, and started to work.

Half an hour, and several jubilant remarks from Wanton later, I'd completed my work, and had made the contraption into a more hospitable home for any spirit that wanted to be inside of it. I motioned towards Lisa, who had gotten bored about five minutes into the work, and had been criticizing everything from Wanton's costume choices, to his naming choices, to his career choices, to his choices of personal idols.

She floated forwards, into the tiny drone, trying to figure out how the whole process worked, before she melted away, only vaguely visible with the use of my little ghost-seeing charm.

"Oooh, interesting, I can do all kinds of stuff, also, I think I can power this thing and ooooh those were the blue LEDs, okay, let's see how this gravity thingy works and ooh yeah I'm flying and I'm doing this all wrong aren't I, let me start again.

Hey, Listen!"


	6. Chapter 5

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 5**  
I woke up to the sound of someone singing, and water running in a shower. For just a second, I thought I was back in the shelter, but my bugs informed me of my location before I could even open my eyes.

Opening my eyes showed me that I was still in Myrddin's dimly lit basement apartment, with a nearly depleted fire crackling away in the fireplace. Something moved under my blanket, and I was surprised by a couple of paws, followed by Mister's head appearing from underneath the covers, asking me for head-scratches with soft meowing. I obliged, and he seemed to accept me.

Then again, he'd spend the entire night using me as his own personal heater, so he was probably happy with me already.

I slowly sat up, and noticed a pounding headache, one that was probably an aftereffect of the vampire-guy's drugged spit. Or maybe it was the singing, both explanations seemed possible.

Looking around, I noticed the little kitchen, set off to the side, and went for a glass of water while thinking about the events of the day before.

The day itself had been strange, including the encounter with the supervillain vampire I'd stabbed in the stomach, but the real weirdness had started once I'd arrived here.

And then there was the Stranger. The invisible figure that had saved me last night, as well as Harry's weird behaviour, as if there was someone else there. I mentally went over the capes in the local Protectorate, but I was pretty sure there weren't any strangers in there. Then again, if there was one, they would probably keep it a secret, in order to make him or her more effective. At least that's what I would have done, you never knew what kind of stupidity ruled the PRT's thought processes.

As I finished the glass of water, Mister started meowing next to what must have been his water bowl. I grabbed it, refilling him for it, and he ignored it while walking to a different empty bowl, obviously the one usually filled with his food.

"I guess he forgot to feed you before leaving in the middle of the night?" I asked him while I started looking around trying to find where Harry kept his cat food. Mister had kept me company through a night filled with bad dreams and strange, drug-induced emotions, so I figured I owed him some breakfast.

It also was a good excuse to take a good look at what must have been the strangest apartment I'd ever seen. The furniture was a strange mixture between old-fashioned, second-hand, and high-quality, and my guess was that it had all been old and second-hand before he'd gotten his job with the Protectorate. Seeing high-quality pans that couldn't have been more than a year or two old right next to a wood-fire stove was just plain weird.

"He keeps the cat food in the closet above the sink," a female voice said, taking me by surprise.

I looked around, and spotted a woman in the doorway to Harry's bedroom. She had straight dark hair cut to the nape of her neck and eyes of the type you saw in eyeliner commercials. I pegged her as a Latina, slightly shorter than I was, maybe twenty-five years old or so.

"Susan Rodriguez, investigative reporter," she supplied when I kept looking at her.

"Taylor," I replied.

"Better known as Skitter," she supplied, saying it as if the words had no weight at all.

"How did you?"

"I've been investigating the whole bug thing, had it pegged as a guy called Billy Towers, an exterminator that died in a freak beehive accident, but investigated you in order to cover my bases. Anyway, when a girl with your build and hair shows up to Myrddin's home in the middle of the night asking for help? It was an easy guess. Plus, I've been talking to your friend's ghost."

Her explanation made sense, especially if you counted in the fact that she already knew Myrddin, and might have known he'd had a conversation with Skitter yesterday morning. I sighed, I'd kept the back of my head free because I loved my hair, but it looked like it could bite me in the ass here. Sure, back in Brockton, I was just one in many teenage girls that Skitter could be. Here however, there probably weren't all that many teenage Brocktonite refugees, let alone tall girls with long, curly black hair.

And, of course, she had been talking to my friend's ghost. So she was quite obviously insane. Ghosts were real, sure, but they were also safely locked away in the birdcage with their master.

"A ghost, yeah, sure," I answered her.

"I'm guessing you're one of those people that don't believe in the supernatural, aren't you? Even after having that encounter with the vampire?"

"It's this new thing called a parahuman, they study it in universities? Ever heard of it?"

"And it just so happens that hundreds of parahumans, the world over, have the exact same power-set, that happens to coincide with age old stories about vampires?"

"Power-granting Trumps, like Teacher and Galvanate? I mean, seriously, this has been studied, there's reputable, well-written articles about it and everything."

"Ouch, no need to make it personal," she replied, smiling.

I turned away from her and grabbed the cat food, finally filling an indignant Mister's bowl. He immediately started lapping up the hard pellets, completely ignoring me now that my job had been done.

"Anyway, I should've known better than to make a bet with a high-level Thinker, I guess I owe her twenty bucks now, although I'm not sure what a ghost is going to do with the money," she continued.

"Who are you talking about?" I asked her.

"Your friend, Tattletale. You know, the ghost I told you about?"

It annoyed me, the casual way in which she made fun of my losses. Pretending ghosts were real all to make a quick buck from gullible idiots who believed in that sort of thing.

"Very funny, I guess crazies attract each other right?"

"You're in a wizard's apartment, hiding from a vampire, which you only beat with the help of your undead teammate."

"Lisa is dead! Why the fuck are you pretending like you talked to her!" I shouted at her, losing my temper.

She sat down on the couch with a sigh.

I stood back against the wall, pointedly ignoring her, and looking at Mister, who was happily eating away at his food.

"I'm going to take a shower," I said, walking towards the door of Harry's bedroom, form where I'd heard the water and the singing.

"The hot water doesn't work," Susan supplied.

I ignored her, and closed the door behind me when I found the bathroom. It was small, only sort of clean, and it was very much not warm, with none of the warm air and steam you'd expect after someone had taken a shower.

I made sure there was a dry towel, and tried the water before taking my clothes off.

It was cold, not freezing, but not warm enough to get a nice shower. I took off my clothes, jumped under the stream of water, screamed for a second or two, quickly rinsed every part of my body, and got out again before becoming undercooled.

The worst thing was, by the looks of it, the hot water wasn't just broken, it was never there. The shower didn't even have a heat dial.

I cursed, quickly drying myself off and putting my clothes back on again. But, I had to admit that the shower helped, made me just a bit less angry at Susan, and helped relieve the headache.

I walked out, and saw Susan still sitting on the couch. Mister, the filthy little traitor, was sitting on the armrest, happily getting petted by her.

I looked at her, and decided to be the bigger person.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," I told her.

She turned to me, took a deep breath, and started talking.

"And I'm sorry for being insensitive, I should have known it was a sensitive subject, and should have brought it up more gently. But, I'm telling you, she was there. Harry just took her to work to make her a sanctuary, something she can use to get around and talk to people. Interact with the world. I mean, I only know she was there, and I can't give you a definite answer on whether she was a ghost or something else. Maybe she had a second trigger, something that made her capable of surviving death. Like the Butcher, or whatever Glaistig Uiane does to people. If you think that's a more logical explanation, then you can believe that," She said.

"So what, you want me to believe she second triggered with a new power-set that made her a ghost?"

"You bought the vampire power-set, so why not this?"

"Because it's ridiculous!" I said, taking care not to let the conversation deteriorate into yelling again.

"I know, which is why I choose to believe it's her spirit, living on beyond death. She wanted to help you, you know? It's what drove her to invite you to her team. Everyone dying, you losing your home and your family, it means she had unfinished business, enough to bring her back, or at least stop her from moving on."

"You're crazy."

"And you control bugs with your mind. I'm not asking you to believe my interpretation of things, just to keep an open mind."

"You can't just expect me to, well, to believe she's back."

"She punched the vampire, and she told you about his weakness, the stomach. Isn't that enough to at least trust me a little bit on this?"

"No…" I replied, although I wasn't sure. Was Lisa the Stranger? And how had I known to hit the creature in its apparent weak spot? Telling me about that seemed like it was the kind of thing that Lisa did, but the whole thing was just…

"Look, how about you follow me around for a few days? Call it an internship of sorts. If you still don't believe in the supernatural after seeing what I see for a week, I'll eat my hat."

I looked at her, and she seemed to being entirely serious. Then again, crazy people usually were. But, she was at least sane enough to have a real job that didn't rely on her having superpowers, so maybe there was something there.

"And if you need a place to stay, I have an empty room in my apartment, as well as hot water that actually works."

It… I had to admit, a warm shower actually sounded like it would be a good idea.

"So what, you'd have me get you coffee?"

"I was thinking of something closer to you helping me out with those bugs of yours, all sneakylike and stuff like that, get into places I can't usually get into."

I thought about it for a second, deciding on how much to tell her. I didn't really know her all that well, but then again, Myrddin seemed to trust her, and he seemed to be a decent person, and she was offering me a place to sleep and a warm shower.

"I can't actually hear or see with them, not well at least. Just sort of feel where they are," I told her. "Although, maybe I could use them for tiny microphones and cameras? Carry them around at a distance or something like that?"

"Sounds like an idea, means we immediately have evidence too, and footage we can use," Susan replied.

"So, when do we start?"

***

Susan's apartment was much closer to the city center than Harry's had been. It also wasn't in a basement, which helped improve it as well. The only thing that was actually missing was Mister, who would have greatly improved it with his presence. Not that I was a cat lady, it was just that Mister was a really nice cat.

"So, let's try this out shall we?" Susan said, placing her laptop on the table.

The laptop itself was unimportant. The important thing was what it was connected to. Three tiny cameras and a set of microphones, currently being carried around the apartment by my bugs.

"What's the range on these things?" I asked her.

"The box says a thousand feet, but I don't exactly believe that claim."

I looked at the screen of the laptop, on which the three different camera feeds were being shown. One of them showed me and the laptop from above, and was being carried around by a group of spiders. Another was pointed out of the window, overlooking the streets below. The third was half-covered by spiderweb and looked at the bottom of a dragonfly.

I moved the swarm around it a little, trying to get a different grip, and within a few minutes I had it looking in the direction I wanted, its screen largely unobstructed.

"Looks like it might work," I said.

Susan walked to the window, opening it, "Then let's do it live."

I commanded my bugs, sending them out into the city, carrying their clandestine equipment. It wasn't all that stealthy yet, but it wasn't as noticeable as an actual person with a camera was. Plus, it helped me actually see what my bugs are seeing, and gave some context to the things I was able to piece together with my mental map.

Once they were properly at range, half a block away, I turned on the microphones, and we heard the sounds of the street. People talking about absolutely nothing, cars driving by, that sort of thing.

"Looks like it works," I told her.

"Seems like it, makes for a neat little trick, should help us get footage of some more exclusive places."

"Wouldn't that be illegal?"

"Says the bank-robber."

"I told you, I'm trying to turn things around."

"Think of it like this, they can only sue us if they admit that the footage is real."

"That doesn't sound like a very good excuse," I told her.

"Look, journalism is about getting the scoop, figuring out what's going on. Sometimes, you have to break some laws in order to find the information that the people deserve to know."

"Sounds like a worthy cause, but didn't you publish an article about how Jack Slash was a vampire sympathiser?"

"Exactly! What do you think Crimson was? And that just shows, I'm not afraid of the Slaughterhouse, and I'm not afraid of the government. Not if the people have a right to know the truth!"

"I'm not entirely convinced, but I can believe that you believe that."

I made the insects roam around with the cameras a bit more. Two of them were being carried around on the outside of the building, and the smallest one was getting carried around by a group of flying bugs.

"Hey, I think we've got Wards incoming," she said. "You want to check out how well the mic's work?"

I looked at the screen she was pointing at, and noticed what she was talking about. Three of the Chicago wards were on a patrol, taking advantage of the weekend to get some work done.

"Let's see, we've got Wanton, Annex, and I think that's Grace?" I said.

"Yep, seems to be, probably just a general patrol if they're here though, showing the flag and everything. Now, let's get those microphone's in closer."

I focussed on the small groups of bugs carrying the microphones, and brought them closer, hiding them beneath ledges and behind metal grates to stop them from noticing the insect activity.

Luckily, none of them were Thinkers, nor were they particularly observant. Someone like Lisa would have noticed almost immediately, but the cameras helped me see what was visible and what wasn't, and allowed me to hide my mini-swarms in broad daylight, as long as people didn't look too closely.

"So, uhm, Grace, you know that friend of yours?" The microphone picked up. It took me a few seconds before I matched the voice to Wanton.

"Which one? I mean, you know some people have, like, multiple friends, right?" Grace replied.

Teenage drama, as I'd expected from a bunch of high-schoolers with superpowers. Then again, the Undersiders had been teenagers too.

"I think he means the hot one," a third voice that could only belong to Annex said.

"No I don't," Wanton defended himself.

"Yeah, sure, you wanted to ask for the ugly one's phone number," Annex replied.

"So, which one are you talking about? I mean, you've met them exactly once, so don't go pretending you're not after whichever is the hot one," Grace said.

"He's obviously talking about Molly," Annex said, half-joking.

"What, no, ewww," Wanton replied.

"Why ewww? What's wrong with Molly? She's nice," Grace said.

"Just, you know, black lipstick and everything? Not my thing."

"So superficial, not what you'd expect of a hero."

"Well, like you said, I can only really judge them on their looks."

"So, which is the hot one?"

"She's not the hot one, but, I mean the one with the short brown hair? You know, she was wearing that Canary shirt at your party."

"Wait, you think Olivia is the hot one?"

"I told you, I'm not saying she's the hot one."

"Why isn't she the hot one? What's wrong with Olivia?"

"Nothing it's just… help me out here Annex,"

"No way man, you dug your hole, you lie in it."

I turned down the volume on the laptop, and looked at Susan. "You know, for spying on a bunch of superheroes, their conversation is remarkably boring," she said.

"What, you're not going to write about the scandalous love life of the Chicago Wards?"

"Not really, I mean, first of all, they're children, and speculation like that would dig into their civilian identities. That's not a good idea. Plus, no one is really interested in that beyond pure scandal, the real scoop lies in figuring out stuff about the more famous heroes."

"Oooh, maybe you could write an article about how Myrddin is feeding info to a journalist because she's sleeping with him."

"Maybe you could stop being a smart-ass," Susan joked.

I turned on the sound again, trying to keep up with the moving patrol with my bugs, and seeing if I could match the sounds the microphones picked up to the sounds the bugs heard. I couldn't, but it didn't hurt to try.

"So, guess what Myrddin did this morning?" Wanton said, having changed the subject.

"Oooh look, conveniently relevant conversations," Susan said to me.

"Let me guess, he threw a piece of garlic at you in order to check if you were a vampire?" Annex asked.

"Nahh, I bet he drew a circle around you and told you you couldn't leave because I was a magic circle," Grace added in, obviously happy with the fact that the conversation had moved away from which of her friends was the 'hot one.' The solution to Wanton's problem had, obviously, been to tell Grace that she was already the hot one, but that he couldn't possibly date her because they were on a team together, but you couldn't expect boys to be able to do that.

"It's not that I couldn't leave, It's that I would lose my wizard powers, that's how it works."

"Dude, you're not even a Trump, let alone a wizard."

"Fuck off, I can be a wizard if I want to."

"Don't fucking swear Wanton, do you want another workshop on proper image?" Grace said.

"What was that about relevant conversations?" I asked Susan after the conversation had deteriorated into whether or not Wanton was an actual wizard instead.

"Just… you need to have patience while eavesdropping. That's like, the first rule of journalism."

"Just what kind of journalist are you?"

"I work for a tabloid that published articles about Hookwolf being an actual werewolf, what did you expect?"

"Not a Hexenwolf? That's what Harry called them."

"Hexenwulf means external artifact, Hookwolf obviously used his own power."

"Yeah, right… his own parahuman power."

I turned away from the conversation, and back to the superpowered teenagers.

"Anyway, he said it was a sanctuary or something for a ghost," Wanton said.

"Yeah, right, so, obviously a master power," Annex replied.

"Yeah, but a really cool one. Remember that thing Cuff had? He turned it into something that can actually talk and shit."

"So, did Heathrow yell at him again?"

"Nahh, he didn't even tell the guy."

"So, what ghost is it supposed to be?"

"Dunno, he said it was a supervillain, but she didn't sound like one, so I think it's just Myrddin being Myrddin."

"Ooh, Revel's gonna be mad. Remember that thing with the faerie?" Grace said.

"What, Toot-Toot? Toot-Toot was cool," Wanton replied.

"And totally not PG."

"One hundred percent hilarious though."

"Still wondering how someone's power eats that much pizza," Annex said.

"Harry's power eats pizza?" I asked Susan.

"No, I think Toot-Toot is an actual faerie that Harry met once," she replied.

The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, and I quickly turned off the sound, and alt-tabbed into a different window. Whoever was visiting didn't need to see what we were looking at.

Given that, who was knocking on the door? I checked with my bugs, but they didn't actually find anyone standing there, at least nothing like a person. Further down the hall however, I did find someone slowly walking towards the apartment. Someone tall. Myrddin?

I turned around, and saw Susan opening her door, and just when I started wondering why they were knocking instead of using the doorbell, I noticed what had been making the sound.

A small, round-ish metal ball, giving off blue lights through a few LED's, was floating in the air using what looked like some sort of tinktertech anti-gravity thing, and it looked like it had simply been throwing itself against the door repeatedly in order to knock.

"See, I told you they'd be here!" It called out in a feminine voice, obviously talking to Harry, who was still walking towards the doorway.

As I heard the voice, I couldn't really believe it. I recognized it, recognized it very well. It was Lisa's voice. Harry had taken Lisa's voice patterns and used it for his fucking powers…

The blue drone rushed forwards again, and bumped into the doorway, as if the door was still there. It reminded me of something from a game I once played with my father, back when I was a lot younger.

"Hey, the fuck? You have a glass door?" the thing asked.

"I told you, it's a boundary, she has to invite you in," I heard Harry say.

"Well, come In Lisa," Susan said, playing along with Harry. Of course, because she actually believed it.

The next time the drone flew forwards, it didn't bounce into an invisible barrier. Instead, it flew straight at me, stopping right before my face.

"Hey, good to see that you're safe," it said.

"Fuck off Harry, I'm not in the mood for your delusions," I replied. I really didn't want to have to deal with his bullshit.

"Look, Taylor, it's… Susan, could you and Harry give us some privacy?" the drone said.

"Sure thing, don't ruin anything," Susan said, stepping out of the door. From what my bugs could sense, she was talking to Harry, being all flirty.

"Taylor… We should have a talk. About Coil, about a lot of things," it said.

Strange… how had Harry known about Coil? Or had his power just somehow gathered that information from thin air.

"I know what you're thinking right now, so just let me finish. I mean, we didn't really split up on the best of terms. What with me manipulating you, and you being a hero, planning to betray us from the start," the drone said. I could almost believe that it was really Lisa, almost.

"You knew? For how long?"

"From the start you silly, before we even met. Thinker, remember? Look, back before I joined the Undersiders, I was living on the streets. I didn't really have a plan or anything, and I just wanted not to be close to my parents. Anyway, that's about when I first met Coil, at the point of a gun-"

***

It took about half an hour, Lisa's voice droning on in my ears, telling me her story. Her brother, Coil, how she met the Undersiders, Coil's power, meeting me, wanting to help me. The thing with Dinah, what happened during the Endbringer fight, the monster, Echidna, getting into the shelter, which was apparently filled with several supernatural nasties that it started cloning, Eidolon destroying everything within the shelter, Leviathan smashing her body apart within half a second, and waking up above the sunken city. The worst part of it was that she didn't need to breathe, let alone drink anything to keep her throat from drying out

"Lisa," I interrupted.

"Yeah?" she asked, even though she probably already knew what I was going to say.

"Just shut up and give me a hug?"

Lisa dashed forwards, bumping into my chest. The metal was cold and hard, but that didn't matter, because I had my best friend back.


	7. Chapter 6

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 6**

I slowly drank the hot tea Susan had made, trying not to show too much amusement at Lisa moping around, unable to drink in her little iron shell. It was good, much better than the stuff Brian used to get at the coffee shop. Across from me, Harry was nursing his own drink, and he looked like someone preparing himself for a heavy conversation.

"So, let's talk about the elephant in the room, or rather, the eldritch interdimensional alien in the brain," Harry suddenly said, without an ounce of theatrics.

Susan almost did a spit-take, just barely managing not to get herself covered in boiling water. "The what now?"

"Powers, I'm guessing?" I said. "That thing I saw…"

"Correct, to be precise, you saw the source of my powers, my parahuman ability."

"So, Lisa and I have one as well?" I asked, thinking back to the strange thing that I had seen the first time I'd looked Harry in the eyes. It had been massive, otherworldly, incredibly powerful, but somehow locked up as well, chained down, with Harry in complete control.

"Yes, although there are some slight differences. For Lisa, It's more accurate to say that she is the source of her powers, especially since she died. As for you, I'm afraid that yours is not nearly as under control as mine," he said. He looked sad while saying it, like he was disappointed with the facts.

"What do you mean? I'm in control of my power right?"

"Well, yes, but also no. Sure, you can control the ability it is giving you, but that's by design. The problem is that, while you're doing that, it's slowly digging itself a way into your psyche, bringing the two of you closer together, until eventually, you end up like Lisa here."

"What do you mean she'll end up like me?" Lisa asked. I wondered whether she really wanted to know the answer, or was just asking it in order to make the conversation flow better. Her power gave her access to all kinds of titbits of information, and she usually didn't have to ask for clarifications.

"The more time and influence it gets, the more it influences you. At the start, it's just a gargantuan eldritch abomination that has decided to give you superpowers by digging into your brain. After a while however, especially with people heavily relying on their power, your brain and your power start synchronizing better, until the power is part of you, and you are part of the power. In some cases, that means you get a strange ghost, in other cases, well, you probably know about people like the Nine."

"Wait, you're saying I'll end up like…" I asked him. Susan and Lisa were also listening intently. The Slaughterhouse Nine were some of the most notorious capes around. A roaming gang of serial killers with up to nine members at a time, the group had a high turnover rate, recruiting as they went while they got caught up in lethal fights with both heroes and villains. The response to the Slaughterhouse being in town tended to be rather similar to what happened during Endbringer fights, although on a more localized level. For some reason, the Protectorate didn't pull all stops when going against them. Once, they'd had an excuse. One of the members of the Nine, the Siberian, had killed Hero, one of the strongest capes ever to live. But the Siberian had disappeared a while ago, and hadn't been seen for over a year.

"Probably not, but I'm afraid I just don't know. All I know is that a good friend of mine told me that, when he looked Jack Slash in the eyes, he saw that they had been merged to such a degree that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began," Harry said, and it took me a while before I realized that he must have been talking about a wizard instead of a parahuman.

"So, to summarize, the more you use your power, and the longer, the more influence it has over you, until the difference is negligible. And like you said, the really horrible people have been completely merged. So I have two questions. First of all, why? What's the reason for these things to give people powers, and then start synchronizing with them? Secondly, why am I not a crazy serial killer?" Lisa asked.

"Well, that's the problem; I have absolutely no idea, on both counts. Powers just appeared out of nowhere a few decades ago, and as far as we know, they have absolutely no relation to magic. Even worse, they shouldn't actually exist."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, we're on Earth Bet right now, and it's called Earth Bet because there's also an Earth Aleph. In addition to that, it is presumed that there is a near endless amount of alternate universes, and those alternate universes are where the things giving people powers are located. You're with me so far, right?" he asked

I nodded, and Lisa was getting enthusiastic, sensing that this was going somewhere interesting.

"The problem, however, is that there are no alternate universes."

"That doesn't make sense, like you said, we have proof of their existence," I said.

"Yes, and it seems highly unlikely that it's all some sort of highly advanced illusion. Beings far stronger than I am have checked, and concluded that whatever comes through the portal from Earth Aleph is real."

"Even though it isn't," Lisa said, having made a few leaps of logic that allowed her to see where Harry was going with this. "Because there's no such thing as alternate universes. Quick question, are there wizards on Aleph?"

"Well, that's the problem, there aren't any," Harry replied, and I started trying to understand what he was getting at.

"So, under multiverse theory, there's a near infinite amount of universes, and according to what you're saying, the entities that give us our powers are located in some of those universes. There is absolutely nothing that makes this universe special, and there are a thousand universes like Aleph that are almost entirely the same," Lisa said.

"Exactly."

"Yet our universe, our world, is the only world, and it has creator gods and wizards and vampires and angels and all that sort of stuff, and it's all unique and precious, and there are no alternate universes, at least not in the way that science-fiction shows have them," Lisa continued.

"Exactly."

"And that doesn't make any sense."

"Exactly."

"Look Harry, I'm not sure if you're hearing me, but that doesn't make any sense! You can't have mutually exclusive laws of physics! It's ridiculous! Either multiverse universe is true, or its not!"

"Exactly!" Harry said for the fourth time, an impish grin spreading over his face.

"Wait, hold on. So, if I understand this correctly, powers and magic work on different laws of physics, that are somehow true at the same time?" I asked.

Harry turned to me, had a silly smile on his face, and just said "Exactly."

"So how come you're a wizard with powers, and Lisa is a ghost with powers?"

"I have absolutely no idea, but I do have some theories. For me, I think it's because, even though I'm a wizard, wizards are still largely human. I can only presume that the source of my powers latched on to me without fully understanding what it was getting into, and now it's stuck within my binding, the part of me that's a wizard and the part of me that's a parahuman being separate. As for Lisa, I have no idea, you'd have to ask her."

"Well, I don't know exactly how either, but from what my power is telling me, and I mean like my power power, not alien creature talking to me power, although they're one and the same and maybe it is actually the creature power talking to me, by the way we really need a new name for them. Anyway, as I was saying, I think my power went rogue or something. It liked me, it was sad that I died, if it could even be sad, and then it found my ghost and attached itself to that. As to how I have a soul, from what Harry has been saying, it seems more like we, my power and I, have a soul together. We were starting to merge, and when my body died, we were metaphysically close enough to each other that it was more like losing a limb than dying. But, according to the rules of physics magic works under, I still died, so I became a ghost. We, my power and I, got curious, saw the ghost, and pushed ourselves into it, creating, well, whatever I am. As for why it doesn't seem to happen more often, I think that's because of what my power does. See, most thinkers have some sort of extra senses or something; they gather information to do stuff like simulate the future, that sort of thing. Unlike them, I, or We, simply draw conclusions from the things I see on my own, without using outside knowledge. I'm pretty sure that most power creature things are just as confused about the whole thing as Harry is. We were just in a unique position to capitalize on the newly opened possibility," Lisa spoke, not even stopping to breathe between sentences.

"Which is why a couple of people I know will be very interested in our floating chatterbox here," Harry said.

"Like, dissection interested, or?" Lisa asked him.

"Some of them, maybe, but most of them wouldn't. The thing is, it seems like it is impossible for magic to cross over to other dimensions, at least without help. The enchantment on my power only works because it interacts with my brain, which is firmly located in this world. Shortly after Behemoth first appeared, some of the more powerful things in the Nevernever, the ones that are best described as forces of nature or gods, got together in an uneasy peace to remove it from reality. They gathered energy, and unleashed one hell of a spell that destroyed the entire creature in an instant, poofed it out of existence as if they'd killed its parents in the past.

Problem is, Behemoth and the other Endbringers are multidimensional creatures, and the moment its presence in this reality was gone, its presence in the other dimensions bled through, and replaced the missing matter immediately. Because it's a multidimensional creature, and no matter how strong, the spell couldn't affect the other dimensions," Dresden said.

"So, why didn't they just use indirect magic instead? Use all that power to shoot a cannonball at it or something? The Endbringers have an effect on us, so we should be able to similarly affect them," Lisa asked.

"Same reason Eidolon or Alexandria can't kill it. It's too sturdy. And sure, there are a few things that could probably destroy it in that manner, but not without collateral damage that would make us go the way of the dodo, dinosaur style. Thus, we're at an impasse, and no-one can do anything until they figure out a way to make magic multidimensional,"

"And given how I am made of magic, yet also have powers, you think I might be able to help," Lisa continued.

"Maybe, we'll see. Right now, I'm working on figuring out my pocket dimensions. Their workings are somewhat in-between magical places like the Nevernever, and full alternate dimensions like Aleph, and magic works at least partially inside of them."

"So, you said you were shielded right? Is that why we're talking about this? Because you're going to shield me too?" I asked him.

"Sadly no, I can't. Or rather, I can't do that without incredibly dangerous consequences. I would have to go into your mind in order to place those shields, and that's black magic. It's illegal, it's wrong, and it corrupts the user in a way that is much worse than the corruption caused by using your power. The reason I'm telling you is because you have a right to know, and because I was sure you'd believe me instead of thinking I was just being crazy," he replied. He looked disappointed and annoyed, like someone who disliked a rule, but still followed it because he understood, on an academic level, why it was there.

That, well, that was a disappointment. Apparently, there was a crazy alien thing in my head that was going to merge with me, and there was nothing I could do about it except hope that I'd end up like Lisa, instead of ending up like Jack Slash.

My life had just been getting better and better these days.

"Look, I know it sucks, I just don't want you to get into trouble because I didn't tell you anything about what was going on, and hey, maybe our flying flashlight over here can figure something out. And trust me, most of the things that could help you with that, you wouldn't want to pay their price,"

"I see…" I replied.

Susan, having lost interest in the conversation, suddenly arrived with a newly brewed pot of hot coffee and a few snacks. I could only assume that she'd gotten disappointed once it became clear that the conversation was centred on actual metaphysics instead of juicy magic gossip.

"Maybe spread out the heavy, worldview-smashing revelations out a bit more next time?" she suggested.

"Sure, I'll just ask the universe to stop making sense a little bit at a time," Harry returned.

"Sooooo… what now?" I asked.

"Well, I have a patrol planned in in about an hour, so I'm going to prepare myself for two hours of putting up with Campanile joking about his massive intellect, and his massive muscles, and his massive, well, you know."

"Ego?" Lisa suggested.

"That too."

"Anyway, I think we should go check out the church, try interviewing Rune, make an article about vampire politics about it or something," she suggested.

"Wait, Rune's in town?" I asked.

"Yeah, pretty much the same story as yours, except for the whole ghost friend thing, the vampires tried to recruit her as well, she got spooked, and she took refuge in a church. It's why Michael showed up in the middle of the night."

"Michael?"

"We both know you saw him Taylor, you're not all that good at pretending to sleep."

"Didn't know his name was Michael."

"So, vampires trying to recruit teenage girls? Sounds like a scoop, let's check it out shall we?" Susan said. "Interview with a supervillain, secret vampire plots, it'll be a hit."

"And this time when people disbelieve it, they'll be wrong!" Harry added in cheeckily.

"Hey, don't insult my readership!" Susan replied, half-joking.

"Anyway, she might actually react better if you drop by than if I went for a visit. The Protectorate coming along would probably just get her to panic, while you're a fellow villain from Brockton," Harry said.

"Doesn't mean we're friendly. Remember, she's a Nazi, I have, had, black friends," I replied.

"Still, she's what, sixteen or something? Can't you at least try to help her? I don't like it when young supervillainesses are left to fend for themselves in an unknown city."

I understood what he was getting at, but, I didn't really agree. Rune was different, she was an actual villain. Me, I'd just been, well, I hadn't been a Nazi. "She's literally a Nazi, are you telling me I should forget that because she has some sort of sob story background?"

"Says best undercover operative in 2011," Lisa interjected.

"It's not the same," I replied, idly swatting at her floating orb.

"It's not, but, she does have a relatively sad story. You know, for a Nazi. See, the thing is, she triggered in juvie, solitary to be precise. So, she had something horrible happen to her in prison, and she most definitely didn't want to go back, so her only option was to join a gang."

"So what, we ask her to go back to prison, is that the plan? You just explained why that wouldn't work."

"She helped in the Endbringer attack, doesn't have any kills on her record, and doesn't seem to have reconnected with her fellow gang members. I can probably get Heathrow and Revel to sign off on probationary membership, as long as she behaves," Harry said. "And if that doesn't sound like a good idea to her, could you tell her that we won't come after her unless she causes trouble?"

"Fine, I'll tell her,' I replied.

Saint Mary of the Angels was, in one word, massive. Most people, when they entered the building, would look around, trying to get their head around the size of the cathedral. Me? I managed to be amazed while we were still two blocks away. From what the bugs inside the cathedral told me, it was probably bigger than people thought it was when they came in. I didn't just see the big room in the middle of the building, no, I got access to the rest of the building as well. The small offices, bathrooms and other such things, as well as a room with several beds built into the wall, and two people talking to each other. One of them, as far as I could tell, was dressed like some kind of priest, probably a catholic one. The other was smaller, and wearing a robe. Rune, in all her villainous glory.

"So, how do you want to handle this?" Susan asked me, notepad and pen at the ready.

I responded by showing her how I'd hidden my costume, the silk part of it at least, under my pants, with the upper half tied around my body.

"I was thinking of going in as a cape, but, I'm not really sure. Do you know anything about this place?"

"I know it by reputation. The man in charge, Father Forthill, provides refuge for people hiding from supernatural nasties. Seems to be a good man, who's familiar with the supernatural. The building itself offers protection because it is holy ground, so most things can't enter."

"You find Rune yet, Taylor?" Lisa's voice called out. She was hiding on top of my head, inside a sunhat that Susan had provided for me. She'd even created tiny holed on the front side of the hat, so that she could see through it. Which made absolutely no sense, since the little drone she was inhabiting didn't have any optical sensors at all, but she said that it was necessary. I'd never been a ghost, so I just trusted that it made sense to her.

"Yeah, she's talking to a priest, probably this Forthill you were talking about."

"Okay, so, here's the plan. You change into the silk, but keep off the mask. Then, we knock on a backdoor, wait for the priest to arrive, and tell him Michael told us about the situation. If that doesn't work, we say we have a message from Myrddin for Rune. That should at least get us past the door. From there, just let me handle it, I'll make sure Susan gets her interview," Lisa explained.

"At least it sounds like a plan," I replied.

Five minutes later, I was dressed in nothing but thick silk, knocking on the door of a church. Inside, I felt Rune get startled, and noticed the priest standing up, walking towards the door.

As Father Forthill opened the door, he took one look at me, sighed, and asked "vampires?"

"Sort of, they approached me last night. Michael told us about what happened to Rune and we wanted to talk to her," I said, trying to keep to Lisa's outlined plan.

"Well, you might make more progress than I have. But I'll warn you, she came here for protection, so I won't allow you to bring her to harm," he replied. I wasn't entirely sure how serious he was about it. On one hand, he was just a priest, and I was a cape, so there probably wasn't all that much he could do if I tried something. On the other hand, he was a priest, so maybe he had magical priest powers or something like that. I wasn't quite sure how it worked, but you probably couldn't be careful enough. If ghosts were real, so were exorcisms, probably.

"Wasn't planning on it, just wanted to talk," I replied.

"And the spirit? Is she with you?" he asked.

Tattletale, reacting before I could, floated upward, taking my hat -which did not match my costume at all- with her.

"Yup, name's Lisa, I'm dead, but also not. It's complicated," she said, doing her best impersonation of a flying sun hat.

"Very well," Forthill said, he wasn't as surprised as I'd thought he'd be. "Give me your word that you won't cause anyone inside any harm, and I'll allow you in."

"Ooooh, I get to swear a magical oath? Sure, I promise not to harm anyone inside," Lisa replied. I wasn't quite sure if something like that was actually binding or not. Was there some sort of magical rule that meant spirits like Lisa couldn't lie? Was it just promises? Or was it just good manners not to break them?

"Very well, come in," Forthill answered, leading us into the building. Susan was waiting outside somewhere, fully aware that Forthill probably wouldn't be as forthcoming if we'd started out the meeting asking for an interview.

"I presume you're from Brockton too?" the man asked us.

"Yeah, we are. Made it out alive after the fight was lost," I replied.

"Well, you did at least," Lisa continued. "Me? I had to wait for Myrddin to help me out."

Forthill opened the door to the room Rune was sitting in. "Catherine? I've got some visitors for you here."

Rune, or Catherine, apparently, looked at us, recognizing the dull grey silk of my costume.

"Skitter," she said.

"Rune," I replied.

"Tattletale!" Lisa added, feeling left out.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Heard you had a run-in with some vampires last night, wanted to talk to you about it." I told her.

"What, you're here to make fun of me for that?" she asked, accusingly.

"Not really, the same thing happened to me last night. He got me with that drugged spit of his, I just barely managed to stab it and get away," I replied.

She calmed down when hearing that, becoming less combative, but still wasn't entirely off guard.

Lisa flew forward, until she was floating in front of Rune's face. "I was thinking they probably recruited one of the Merchants, who then got them into this whole spit-addiction thing. I mean, unless this is general vampire behaviour, but I presume they usually just turn people with powers they want. If they can, I'm not quite sure on what part of vampire movies are actually real. I mean, Stoker didn't have anything in it about heroin-based saliva, but then again, it didn't really come up. But, assuming that they can turn people, and that they keep their powers, that sounds like a better idea. Only if you do that, you've now got a cape vampire that probably doesn't like the idea of working for an older vampire that's not a parahuman, paravampire, whatever. Anyway, that would probably lead to internal rebellion and paravampires leading the vampires, so the current boss vampire, this Bianca woman, probably didn't want to go there. So there's that, and the fact that they obviously just started doing this, so I presume it's one of the Merchants that got her the idea. I just don't know which one, because I'm not use which ones survived. I just hope it's not Skidmark, because he's just a complete asshole and-"

"Do you ever shut up?" Rune said, interrupting her.

"No, she doesn't," I told her.

"So, what do you need me for?" she asked.

"Two things," I said.

"First of all, Taylor got a kick-ass internship with a local journalist, and we were wondering if you wanted to do an interview about this whole vampire thing. Second, we had a talk with Myrddin, and he wanted us to pass a message," Lisa said.

"Tats, the fuck? You just gave my name to a Nazi," I said.

"Come on Tay, you came here without your mask, and you already knew hers, it's not like a big deal. Plus, ex-Nazi, I presume?" Lisa said, turning back to Rune.

"Sort of… mostly they were family, and they're all dead now," Catherine said.

"So, anyway, Myrddin wanted us to tell you he can get you a place in the wards, or failing that, leave you alone."

"Me? Join the Protectorate? Are you crazy?"

"That's the same thing I said," I replied. "Just saying, there's option."

"If I may interject?" Father Forthill said, suddenly joining the conversation. I'd almost forgotten he was there. "If it's the Protectorate specifically that the two of you have problems with, there are other options."

"Haven," Lisa said.

"Amongst others, the Catholic church is also known to take in devout parahumans looking for a higher calling,"

"Sorry, not really religious," I told him.

"Same here, and hey, I'm already dead anyway."

"I don't know…" Rune said. Unlike me, it seemed like she was actually thinking about taking him up on the offer.

"There's no need to be hasty," Forthill said. "If what these girls are saying about the Protectorate's disposition is true, then you can stay here as long as you need in order to come to a decision."

"He said that, as long as you didn't start doing any crazy shit, they'd stay off your back," I said.

"So, translated from bureaucrat speak, if you're joining up with another team, change your cape name and pretend to be someone completely different, they won't look into it too deeply," Lisa said.

"Now, about that interview?"

***

Catherine's story had been rather similar to mine. She'd made her way to Chicago, roamed the streets being restless and reckless, and eventually got approached by a vampire girl that called herself Kelly, that Lisa determined was probably the sister of the man that approached me. Susan immediately latched on to that, and I could already read the headlines about lesbian vampire recruitment in my mind. I dimly wondered if there was any truth to it. On one hand, Catherine was apparently a religious neo-Nazi, so she was probably homophobic. On the other hand, she was probably homophobic, which meant she was probably actually gay.

Unlike me, she hadn't been poisoned. Instead, she'd managed to get away and crush the vampire with a piece of an old building. The vampire, or at least its true form, had survived, at least until she'd crushed it again. The whole thing had thoroughly freaked her out, and she'd looked towards the faith she'd long since left behind for support. All-in-all, it was a nice little human interest story about religion, wayward youths, supervillains and vampires. Or as Susan called it, jackpot!

After the interview, we'd started talking about some more mundane things, like life as a teenage supervillain, and the situation in Chicago, as opposed to the bay.

"Don't really know. I mean, Brad talked about stuff every now and then, things he killed. Mostly when he was drunk, which was most of the time. Thinking back on it, maybe some of those were vampires," she said.

"Could be, would be pretty well hidden though. Then again, Brockton was quite clearly a cape town, maybe that kept out most of the supernatural nasties. Or maybe we just didn't recognize them as such. Seems like it's rather easy for them to hide by pretending to be parahumans," Lisa replied.

"Just to check, you're sure Hookwolf wasn't a werewolf?" Susan asked, still looking for proof of her hypothesis.

"Pretty sure he was just a normal psychopath. Fun guy to hang out with though, once you get over the violence. Brewed his own ale and everything. "

"Speaking of werewolves, you hear about the ones in town here? I heard they're cops, changing into wolves to take down supervillains outside of the law. Interdepartmental rivalry with animal transformation, whoda thunk it?" Lisa said.

"Yeah, I heard about those, though without that backstory. I just heard they hung out around the university somewhere."

I looked at Susan and Lisa, and they returned the gesture, "university?"

***

The campus around the University of Chicago wasn't as interesting as I'd thought it would be. Then again, that was mostly because it wasn't the college in Brockton Bay, which I loved because my mother had worked there. Sure, the buildings were nice, and there was a lot of greenery, but it just wasn't the same.

Susan was running around, interviewing people, and I was looking for people who might know something, all the while scouting with my bugs. We hadn't brought the cameras, mostly because we hadn't brought a laptop, so I had to do it manually, trying to figure out what the senses of the bugs were seeing. It was hard work, and was giving me a headache, but Lisa told me it would probably get better from her position under my hat.

"Ask her, the one in the yoga pants, she looks like she might be a werewolf sympathizer," she whispered softly.

"Lisa, this is a college, all the girls are wearing yoga pants," I replied.

"Well, it's not my fault I can't see anything in here," she sassed back.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," I whispered back while approaching a new victim for Susan.

I started walking towards Susan's next victim when something startled Lisa, and she suddenly started talking again, barely able to keep quiet.

"Paras!" she whispered in my ears.

"What?" I asked.

"Paras, the name for the thing that's our power. Because together with a human you have a ParaHuman, and they're also _Para_ sites of a kind!"

"That… is actually quite good. Did you come up with that on your own, or did your Para help?"

"On my own, I think. Not sure," she replied.

Then, having reached the student, a short Middle-Eastern girl, I cut off the conversation with Tattletale.

While talking to the woman, my bugs sensed something on the edge of my reach, in an alley behind one of the student housing units.

It was larger than a normal dog, hairy, walked on four feet, and seemed to be wearing something approximating clothes. Within seconds, it was joined by a second figure, then a third, a fourth, a fifth and a sixth.

Absolutely fantastic. That meant that there were more than just four hexenwolves in town. 


	8. A midnight Romp

**Interlude: A moonlit Romp**  
The MacFinn manor was, in one word, imposing. Set on the outskirts of Chicago, Its gardens were better described as a forest. The building looked old, made out of stone and thick wooden beams, and it was the type of building that, had it been less well kept, would probably be designated as haunted by the townspeople.

The house, and its surroundings, was also protected by an imposing fence of metal and stone.

"You absolutely sure about this Green?" Olivia asked, still looking at the building through the gap in the fence.

The area was dark, and lacked streetlamps, but it was wealthy enough not to attract any attention from the seedy underbelly of Chicago. Hell, if the rumours were to be believed, half the people in that seedy underbelly lived within a few blocks of this place. But the moon was full, and the stars were bright, and a lack of attention served Olivia and her impromptu gang just fine.

"Like I said, Harley is always out of town during the full moon, my mom says everyone knows that. He probably has some sort of crazy religion that means he's having naked sexytimes under the moonlight with his cult or something," Judy replied.

Judy, or Miss Green right now, came from one of the wealthier families in Chicago, and from what Judy had told her, one that was intimately involved in secret societies like that. Then again, secret societies were apparently really fucking boring in real life, involving old people getting together and exchanging secret handshakes.

"Yeah, but, security systems? I mean, he's rich right?" Pink, better known as Molly Carpenter, asked from behind the pink hood she was wearing.

"From what I've read online, the place is haunted, with crazy monsters guarding the mansion, people keep talking about seeing some sort of beast looking at them from the shadows behind the fence," Jane, the resident computer nerd, wearing a yellow hood, said.

"Cape security?" Judy asked.

"If so, I can take them," Olivia replied. "Now, enough talking, let's do this."

Olivia's hand went to her head, and she pulled down her metal mask, decorated with a crazy lopsided smile and two little antennas. The smile was because it was awesome, the antennas were to distract any enemies. The idea was that they'd think she was controlling her minions with them, instead of with her mind.

She held her hand forwards, and touched the fence when she saw something moving on the other side, and two feral eyes looking straight at her. For just a second, she flinched, and her compatriots followed her example.

Once she looked again, the eyes were gone, nowhere to be seen.

"Did you see that?" she asked.

"What? Is someone coming? Did you see something?" Molly asked.

"No, don't think so. It was probably nothing, just my fucking nerves."

For the second time, she touched the fence. And this time, she unleashed her power, winding through the iron bars of the fence.

Her power worked with single object, however those were defined. In this case, her power thought the iron of the fence was clearly separate from the stone base. It didn't matter, one section was enough.

The iron started bunching together, changing shape by bending and breaking. The process was a bit slower than it was with cars, seeing as the entire thing had no moving parts, but within five seconds, she had a minion made out of cast-iron bars. It wasn't much, but even this thing would thoroughly beat any human interloper that tried to attack them.

Plus, there was a gap in the fence now.

"Come on, let's go through before anyone sees us," Judy said, jumping over the knee-high stones, running for the manor. Olivia, not one to be outdone by one of her minions, joined her, running for the side of the manor. Behind her, she heard the other girls rustling through the undergrowth.

In about half a minute, they'd reached the side of the manor, hidden on all sides by trees, shrubbery and fencing. From up close, the building seemed even bigger.

"So… what do we do now boss?" Molly said, half-joking with the boss part.

"We get inside," she replied, holding her hand to a promising looking wall.

Her power almost immediately told her that the wall was too big, seeing as how it was counted as part of the superstructure of the building itself. Annoyed, Mockshow started walking around the building, looking for a way in.

"Over here," Red called out, and Olivia ran to her position, her metal minion on her heels, immediately noticing why Red had called out when she came closer.

There was a large glass wall, probably added in the last few decades, and behind it, an indoor pool.

"Fucking Jackpot!" she said, touching the glass. This time, it did work, and the glass started folding in on itself, half melting, half breaking without shattering. Olivia was only dimly aware of the sound of the other girls splashing into the pool, she was creating art.

Sure, cars were fun, big, and easy, and yesterday night's project had looked amazing, mostly due to the multi-coloured nature of the source materials, but she'd never actually tried glass before. The way it was half-fluid, the way in which its movements were more organic than mechanical, it was fascinating.

This was why she didn't see the alcohol until Molly held a glass in front of her nose.

"Yuck, what's that?" she asked.

"Irish whiskey, there's an entire bottle of it," Molly said. Olivia looked over her assembled minions, most of which had dropped the colour scheme in favour of getting half naked and jumping into the pool. Then, she grabbed the glass, and chucked it back before she could regret it.

"I wish Katherine was here, she'd love this," Judy said from the water.

Katherine, better known as Grace. She'd been a part of the group for a while, most of it before Olivia had joined them. When she'd gotten powers, she'd decided to join the fucking white hats, and had invited the rest of them to the party.

The amount of goody-two-shoeing boringness she saw in that one meeting was enough for Olivia to decide that she wasn't going to do anything like that with her powers, and ever since Grace had joined the wards, she had been completely boring.

Feeling the liquid courage of the whisky, Olivia kicked off her shoes and socks, and took of her pants, so that only the leather bodysuit, which covered about the same stuff as a swimsuit, remained. Then, she ran forward, and jumped, making a massive splash, almost immediately followed by two even larger ones, courtesy of her minions. Sure, they weren't as big as they could be, but they were still heavier than a teenage girl.

***

Tonight's outing, Olivia thought, had been a success. Sure, half her minions were drunk, but that had been the idea from the start.

Okay, maybe not the alcohol, but the rest of it? Partying in some rich idiot's house? It had been fucking awesome.

She looked at her other minions, the ones that weren't friends, but just telekinetic robot thingies, or was that racist? The one made from the iron fence looked like a dog, or some other four-legged creature, with long metal bars extending from it that worked as weapons, as well as climbing tools. Right now, it was standing on the wall, something which only worked because of how small it was.

The other one, the creature she'd made out of glass, was sitting right next to her. This one wasn't analogous to any real creature; instead, it was more like it rolled, with pieces telekinetically kicking out to get it rolling. It would probably be even more useless in a fight, but it looked cool. She pushed it forward, rolling it towards the row of cupboards in the kitchen. There had to be some snacks somewhere in this mansion, right?

As the creation approached the cupboards, she made it slash out with a shard of glass, breaking open two cupboards. She looked at the contents, and saw that it was nothing but a whole lot of dried meat and expensive dog food. Weird, there hadn't been any other signs of dogs in the house, so what was that all about?

Her line of thought was interrupted by screaming. It was a girl's voice, coming from deeper inside the house.

Molly, Pink, she'd gone exploring beyond just the kitchen and the pool.

Olivia, Mockshow, rushed into action, she mentally told her two minions to get moving, and ran for the kitchen block herself, touching it, and spreading out her power.

Luckily, it counted, and she twisted the metal, stone and plastic with her mind, creating a larger, sturdier creature. It was something that would actually stand up in combat.

Then she made her way further into the building. Behind her, the large minion followed, trying to push its way through the hallways. When it didn't fit, it made room.

After two hallways, she bumped into Molly, or rather, Molly bumped into her.

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked.

"I just figured out why nobody ever sees MacFinn during the fullmoon, he's a fucking werewolf!" Molly replied.

Yeah, right, a werewolf. Molly had probably spotted the dog and freaked out at the sight of it.

"Where?"

"Down there, there's a hidden room," she said, still trembling, and pointing at a small spiral staircase.

"If this is a joke, you're calling me boss for a week," Mockshow replied.

Nonetheless, she went down the narrow staircase, and entered the basement.

The basement itself looked like it was a big storage room. She thought she spotted wine barrels, gardening equipment, and a whole lot of old furniture and stuff. In the corner stood an absolutely massive TV, made bigger by the fact that it wasn't a flatscreen. It was dusty, and it didn't look like they used it a lot. Mockshow looked around, and spotted what Molly had meant. An iron door, hidden in the corner of the basement, had been left open, probably by a screaming Molly, running upstairs as fast as she could.

She checked that all three of her minions were present, and walked towards the door. She heard the sound of claws scratching concrete, and what sounded like panting. Seemed like mister MacFinn preferred to keep his dogs locked up in the basement.

As she reached the door, she saw the dog in the dim light of the basement lamps behind her.

It was a big doggy. A really big doggy.

Jane had once shown the rest of them movies of a girl that had been active in Brockton Bay, a really badass villain whose power worked on dogs. She made them as large as a minivan, covered in muscle and bones, and she didn't take shit from anyone. Hell, her cape name had been Bitch, although the idiots over at the Protectorate demanded everyone call her Hellhound.

Those dogs had looked big. This one? This one looked bigger.

She took a step to the side to let her minions through, and ran up the stairs.

"Girls! It's time for plan GTFO!" she yelled.

At first, her friends just looked at her, having thought Molly was just overreacting to something. Then, a loud snarl was followed by the sound of glass crashing into concrete, followed by the sound of half a dozen teenage girls running for their lives.

She was about to run after them when she heard a second crash, and a third, and then the sound of stonework crumbling. The giant dog-thing had destroyed her little critters, and was working its way out of the concrete room.

She ran through the house, idly touching large object here and there. A grand piano, a dinner table that was way too large for anything but a medieval banquet, and two exercise treadmills, one of which was strangely large.

What she was looking for however, was something else. Something that every wannabe rich guy supervillain was contractually obliged to have. She just didn't know where it would be.

Her search was interrupted by the sound of things fallen down, followed by a claw tearing through one of the doors leading into the room she was in.

The wolf-beast-thing appeared behind the door, murder on its face. It was snarling, with drool dripping from its overly large teeth.

With a thought, she commanded the grand piano to smash into it from the side, it's strings having taken the role of tendons. Before it could smash into the creature, it turned, and swiped at it with a claw, smashing right through the wood.

Worst thing was, it didn't even make a satisfying sound as it got crushed.

The piano was followed by a closet filled with china and silverware -which did sound exactly like it did in the movies- and Mockshow quickly animated the pool table she'd spotted in whatever the room she was in was called. Smoking room? Pool-playing room? Werewolf room?

Then, she feinted forwards with her animated exercise treadmill, before having it dodge away from the beast.

It snarled in anger, and dashed after it. She made it go as fast as she could while she ran in a different direction, and it smashed into the wall, followed by the angry wolf, which smashed through the wall, filling the room with clouds of dust.

It was angry, and unreasonably strong, but she could use that. It was just like a video game. She'd just have to make it dash through enough walls that eventually the building collapsed on top of it.

Problem was, the creature looked like it could survive that. Oh well, that was a problem for later. First, she needed to survive.

She made one of her smaller minions dash for one of the windows, breaking it, and she jumped after it, landing outside of the old manor. Then, she made her pool table charge the beast while she started circling the house.

Using her power on household objects was fun and everything, but this was a fight, and she needed something that worked better. Something big, sturdy and heavy, preferably lots of things.

She circled the house, hoping the noise made by the beast and her pool table didn't wake up any of the neighbour. It was still night-time, so they probably slept in, but you never knew, and she didn't want the Protectorate to show up and arrest her for fighting werewolves or some shit like that. Maybe the breaking and entering, whatever.

Behind her, she still heard the sound of the wolf-thing biting into things. Her minions there were out of her control, they'd been out of sight for too long and wouldn't do anything anymore, but the monster didn't know that, and was probably munching away on the piano, wondering whether it was really dead or not.

Passing the pool, Olivia took a quick look in the direction of the hole in the gate, and saw a girl dressed in red slip away, signalling to her that her friends had at least escaped. While looking there, in the direction of the trees, she also thought she saw something else, two eyes, between the trees, looking at her. Creepy, and not at all real. The werewolf was inside, not between the trees.

Eventually, she reached the driveway, and with it, the garage door. Just what she needed.

She touched the door of the garage, using just a little bit of her power, enough to make it open itself, and saw exactly what she needed.

MacFinn had been a rich guy, old money with a mansion and a freaky dungeon that he used for, well, for werewolf stuff. He also had a thing for the full moon, probably related to the whole werewolf thing. Being that rich and eccentric? If movies had told her anything it was that It could only one thing.

Car collection, MacFinn had an absolutely massive car collection. Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Volkswagens, even a Jeep. Big, strong cars that would make for big, strong brutes. Minions that could stand up to the werewolf.

She walked up to the jeep, and worked her power on it, charging it with telekinetic energy, transforming it into a four-legged monstrosity, capable of smashing right through puny werewolves.

Just as she was about to finish that thought, the werewolf smashed through a wall, straight into the garage. It snarled and howled, and looked at her with its creepy eyes.

Didn't matter, this time, she was prepared. What had once been a large jeep meant for long excursions through shitty terrain was now best described as a steel Rhinoceros, and charging straight at the beast. It was prepared, and wanted to smash the car away like it had smashed away her piano. This time however, it was up against the massive bulk of a V8 engine. Or some other type of engine. Olivia didn't actually know all that much about cars, she just knew that all the coolest cars had V8's.

The metal rhinoceros ignored the werewolf's little bitch-slap, and rammed straight into it, sending it back into the hole through which it had entered the garage.

For good measure, Mockshow decided to grab two more cars. A red Ferrari, which she optimized for speed, and one of those large limousines, which she used for sheer bulk.

The werewolf, having thrown away the former jeep, came through its hole again, roaring at her, and while she commanded her new minions to catch its attention, she had her first minion stand up, and charged the beast from the back with it.

Caught off guard, the steel horn she'd put on the front pierced into the beast's flesh, and blood seeped out as it cried in range, picking up the Ferrari and throwing it at a wall. It started walking towards her, and Mockshow saw the wound the Jeep had created regenerate almost immediately.

She ran, not to the outside, but at a wall, and the beast followed her, using one arm to keep the Jeep at bay. Once there, she stood perfectly still, and started yelling at the beast, hopefully taunting it.

It seemed to work, and the beast stood still for a second before dashing forwards at great speed. Olivia waited, timed it, and just before the hairy thing could disembowel her, she had her Limousine-minion swoop past and grab her away.

The beast tried to stop itself, but only half managed to, and it crashed into the wall.

All around her, Olivia could hear the old house creaking and moaning, It obviously wasn't liking the fighting.

Before the creature could stand up again, the Ferrari crashed into it, and with it into the wall, creating another cloud of dust. Olivia, in the meantime, rearranged her current ride so that she could actually sit on it, and brought herself closer to a fourth car, animating that as well.

Again, the beast threw her minion through the room, and she could hear a splash of water. Huh, so that wall connected to the pool, interesting.

She told her mount to go outside, through the garage door, and noticed it was starting to become a even darker outside, the moon hidden behind the treeline. Again, she taunted the beast, and as it approached her, she made her mount jump upwards, on top of the building, clawing its way on the roof.

Behind her, three converted and battered cars crashed into the werewolf in quick succession. It bled, and it regenerated.

Well, that was going to be annoying, she thought. Maybe it had a limited pool of health it could use for regeneration? That would be useful.

The beast grabbed one of her minions, and this time, it decided to actually throw it at her. Now that she was mounted however, she easily managed to dodge it, although she flinched at the sound of the metal smashing into one of the higher parts of the building, behind her.

Seconds later, she felt one of the little towers on top of the mansion crash down behind her. Not her fault though, not this time.

Then, the creature jumped up, after her, and she dodged it again. This time, when the two minions that remained on the ground jumped after it, both the beast and the minions fell through the roof, and from the sound of it, through the floor beneath it too. She felt a little laugh come up. This was her first actual cape fight, and it was going relatively well. She hadn't been hurt, and her minions helped her dance around her enemy like it was nothing. The only problem was that she didn't have any way to actually get through its massive regeneration, but hey, maybe the beast would get tired eventually?

The werewolf started clawing its way upwards, out of the hole it's bulk had created in the building, onto the roof. Mockshow, deciding that she would have absolutely none of that, made her mount turn towards one of the remaining little turret, and smashed away at the bottom half of it, until it fell over, right into the hole from which the beast was trying to crawl. The beast was buried once again, with a satisfying crunch of bones breaking.

The next few minutes were silent, except for the groaning of parts of the old building, and the sound of the beast trying to claw its way up. Mockshow waited, having decided to wait until the Protectorate was almost there, and then flee, so that they could handle the whole crazy werewolf thing. Someone had to have called the cops by now, right?

Then, the beast suddenly jumped upwards again, suddenly appearing from in between clouds of dust. This time, it managed to grab her mount in between its jaws, and it started shaking it. Olivia panicked, and made her mount retaliate, all the while falling off.

She landed on an inclined part of the roof, and slowly tumbled down, trying to grab hold of something. Eventually, as she reached the edge, she managed to hold onto the rain gutter, and felt her power accept it. Just as she was about to make it move and set her down on the ground two floors below her, something shook the building, and she lost her grasp.

Falling down, she dimly realized that this was a really shitty way to go, before hitting the lower roof beneath her, and going right through it, ending up inside the pool again.

Still half-stunned, she slowly swam for the side of the pool. For some reason, the werewolf hadn't followed her down here. Was it still attacking her mount?

She noticed that half the room was now filled with one of the towers that had fallen down. She pulled herself up, and slowly walked towards it, every part of her body was sore from the fall, but she reached it, touched it, and empowered the now separated brickwork before she heard something at one of the doors into the pool.

The wolf, now smaller than before, stood in the opening, and started slowly walking towards her. She responded by sending her new minion forwards, the brick and mortar slowly moving forwards, it wasn't very effective material, but it was better than nothing.

Then, she was surprised as something big and hairy jumped on her from behind, pushing her to the ground, and standing on top of her body.

Hadn't the werewolf been in front of her? Hadn't she almost tired it out?

The beast on her back growled, and she decided to stay very still as it stood there.

"Tera? What happened? Why is everything destroyed?" a man's voice called out. He sounded worried, and scared. "Did I hurt anyone? Who is that?"

Olivia felt the beast on its back twist and change, turning into a human. A woman, a naked woman. And although she wasn't a wolf anymore, the woman still overpowered her, and lifter her up, holding Olivia in a tight grip.

"She and some other children broke in and caused mayhem. She fought you, after you broke out," the naked woman said.

"A parahuman then, I presume?" the man asked. Now, she could get a proper look at him. He was naked, wearing absolutely nothing, and conscious of the fact. For the rest, he seemed to be more in shape than the average rich idiot. Not that he had a sixboard and massive glutes, but he wasn't fat. That would probably change a bit now that she'd destroyed his treadmills, but whatever.

"I think yes, or a practicioner, she made things come alive with a touch," the woman, Tera, said.

The man approached her, walking past the brick construct. For just a second, she thought about making it attack him, but Tera's hands were quite close to her throat.

The man, she realized it must have been MacFinn, removed her mask with his hand.

"Christ, you can't be more than what, thirteen or something?"

"Fourteen," she replied defiantly.

"And you fought it, the beast inside of me? Held it off?"

She nodded.

"Then you have my gratitude, for that at least. There are not many who could hold off a loup-garou. As for the rest," he said, looking around the ruins of his mansion. "We can talk about the rest of this later, when we're all wearing clothes. Tera, could you help our guest into something dry? And perhaps put on something yourself? I have a feeling that we may have some uninvited guests incoming.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Harley MacFinn stepped over the rubble in his hallway, and opened what remained of his mansion's front door. Instead of swinging inwards, the door decided to give up, and just fell over. A quick sidestep allowed him to dodge the falling hardwood, and brought Harley face to face with Revel, leader of the Chicago Protectorate. She was flanked by Campanile, a local face that had graduated in the wards somewhere in the last few years, and someone he dimly recognized as Dove-something, a recently acquired flying cape that had apparently been transferred in from a different city.

"Good evening Ma'am, can I help you?" he asked.

"Mister MacFinn, how nice to see you again? Someone called us, saying something about a disturbance?" she replied, gesturing at the ruined garage, and the loosened brickwork spread around the lawn.

"Ah, yes, I see what you mean. Well, I'll be happy to tell you that there are no problems here. I was just having some remodelling done," He answered.

"Remodelling?" Campanile asked, sounding sceptical.

"It was some very enthusiastic remodelling."

"I see… Well, you can call us if there's trouble, mister MacFinn, and next time, please try to do your remodelling during the daytime? Means your neighbours won't wake up in the middle of the night." Revel said.

"Of course," he replied. "And thank you for your watchfulness, I've always believed that the Chicago Protectorate is one of the city's most noble institutions, and I look forward to speaking to you again during the next fundraiser."

"Very well mister MacFinn, I'll see you then," Revel replied, sceptically, before she and her superpowered posse turned around.

Idly, Harley tried to close the door, before realizing that it was currently lying on the floor. Then, he thought that perhaps it was best if he did get some remodelling done.

But first, he would have to do something about his broken containment circle.


	9. Chapter 7

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 7**  
"I'm pretty sure you're just trying to dodge reality here Myrddin," Campanile said with a big stupid smile on his face.

That was the biggest problem with him, I just couldn't stop thinking in size puns.

"Eyes on the road Campanile, there's a large vampire problem in these parts."

"Come on man, I know how much you're making from all the merchandise, you can buy better than that stupid little Volkswagen," he said, and I could barely keep my anger in check.

"The Blue Beetle is my car. There are many like it, but the Blue Beetle is mine. The Blue Beetle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life."

"Oh come on man, it's just a car."

"It's not just a car man. The Beetle and I, we went through a lot of shit together. I've had it repaired like fifty times now."

"Maybe that says more about your driving skills than your car."

"Yeah, because you're such a great driver!"

"For the hundredth time, I hit that guy on purpose. He was a brute!"

"You were still on your learner's permit!"

"And I already drove better than you!"

As we turned another corner, the conversation died down. We were now on a busier street again, and it wouldn't do to have everyone see how ridiculous the internal struggles of the Protectorate were.

Evening patrol had, as always, been relatively silent, anticipatory. It lacked the large-scale attention from civilians that you got in afternoon patrols, and most of the supervillains and other nasties waited until later in the night to start acting. Thus, instead of rushing from crime scene to crime scene, we'd been annoying each other with remarks about driving skills and cars. Campanile had taken a perverse amount of pleasure in the fact that an unknown parahuman had destroyed my car.

"So, Wanton told me you used another power? Something about binding the ghost of a dead supervillain?" he suddenly asked, changing to a more serious topic.

"Long story short? She was only mostly dead. Something with a weird power interaction," I told him, trying to keep a balance between telling him the truth and having him stop believing me.

"So, something like Glaistig Uaine? Only for herself?"

I thought about the question for a while. Glaistig Uaine was a powerful cape, perhaps one of the most powerful ones, that had the ability to summon the ghosts of fallen parahumans, and use their abilities for herself. She was also delusional, looked like an eight-year-old, and thought parahumans -or rather, their powers- were faeries.

That was, of course, absolute nonsense. Faeries were creatures of the Nevernever, not interdimensional brain parasites, although I could forgive her for mistaking one for the other. My own fairy godmother, Leanansidhe, was just about as, if not more, dangerous than the parasite that was invading my brain.

In addition to that, her 'ghosts' were very much not ghosts. Given what Lisa had told me, it was more likely that they were quite similar to what she was, created from a highly sophisticated record of the inner mental workings of the parahuman in question. Except instead of getting matched with the actual ghost, they were now under control of a childlike supervillain.

"Sort of, yeah. She was stuck in a difficult to perceive form, and I managed to get her settled in." I replied.

"And does Heathrow know about this? Hell, have you told Revel you've been helping supervillains?" he asked, quietly.

"Campanile, seriously, have you ever known me to ask before casting a spell?"

He laughed, knowing that I had not.

"So, how'd the Skitter thing go? You learn anything about those werewolf guys?"

"Hexenwolves, probably. She told me they started as a normal operation, only changing into wolves once they were confronted by Watch. Looks like they're taking parahuman activities into their own claws."

"And the girl?" he asked.

"Still a little in shock, trying to rebuild her life. She seems to have taken a big turn towards our side though."

"Does that mean we can expect a creepy new ward?"

"Don't think so, she's not entirely happy with us. For now, I'm just making sure she and Tattletale don't get caught up with the wrong people again."

"Like the vampires."

"Like the vampires."

We walked on a little, swerving around small groups of people that were just starting in the Chicago nightlife.

"They attacked people last night, a recruitment attempt on teenagers," I said.

"Skitter?" he asked.

"And Rune, another girl from Brockton Bay."

"Another one of your sources, I'm guessing?"

"An independent I know told me about her."

"Wonder what got them riled up. They usually prefer staying in the shadows."

"Tattletale, the ghost I told you about, thinks it's one of the Merchants, another group from Brockton Bay. They recruited people by making them dependent on a steady supply of drugs. It seems to me like they tried to mimic that tactic."

"Great…" Campanile said. See? I wasn't the only one making size puns. It's just that mine were better.

Our conversation was cut short when Campanile suddenly got a message in his earpiece.

"Hey Myrddin, comms are saying someone called Susan is calling in, asking for you."

That was one of the problems with being a wizard, technology, and therefore smartphones, didn't agree with you. The Protectorate had done it away as just another side-effect of my phenomenally large array of Trump abilities, and had given up on giving me new earpieces and other such things. Thus, when Susan wanted to talk to me, she'd call the PRT, which called my patrol partner, which informed me. It was a great system.

The real problem was that, if Susan called, that meant something important and time-sensitive was going on. And given who her new assistant was, it was probably trouble.

" What's she saying?" I asked.

He repeated my question, making sure it was properly picked up by his earpiece.

"She's saying you were supposed to help her pick up the puppies at the university," Campanile said, a suspicious look on his face.

Then, he turned off the earpiece again. "So, I'm thinking this is some sort of code…" he said.

"Oh really? You think so? Did you use your massive intellect to deduce that?"

"So, what's it mean?"

"It means we have to hurry, because Skitter is fighting Werewolves on the campus."

"Wait, wasn't she like fourteen?" he asked, as he was starting to exercise his power, growing with about half a foot every second.

Campanile had the ability to become big. Now mind you he was already a ridiculous eight feet tall without actively using it, so instead of just becoming large, he becomes humongous.

Of course, as any student of physics that thinks himself a smartass loves to point out, that's largely useless. The human body is designed for a specific size and weight, and simply scaling that up doesn't work. The square-cube law meant that weight increased at a far greater rate than the size of his legs, and in addition to that, the massive weight would also mean he would sink straight through the floor if he actually became a sizeable height.

So, his brain parasite had decided, he'd also need gravity manipulation, just so that he could keep being as big as he wanted to be.

"So, given that your car's still in the shop, in how big of a hurry are we?" he asked, his voice now deep and gravelly.

I looked around at the street, and all the citizens out on the town for the evening, about half of them holding smartphones in their hand. For just a second, I thought about my remaining self-respect

Then I remembered that everyone already thought of me as 'that crazy wizard guy' anyway, and that three young women, two of them supervillains, were depending on me for help in taking down the Hexenwolves.

"Fine… go ahead," I said.

At that, Campanile picked me up, and held me in a bridal carry for just long enough to allow all the onlookers to take a picture, and upload them to their instabooks or whatever. Blame me for not having the internet, I've heard what degenerates online get up to. Grace and Cuff had explained to me in quite some detail about something called slash, and whatever they said, I'd never looked at Chevalier in that manner. Michael was the only knight for me.

Then, when he was sure everyone had been able to take an embarrassing picture, Campanile flung me over his shoulder instead, and started running for the university campus.

***

In my years dealing with supernatural and parahuman troubles in Chicago, I've seen quite a few different variations of _shit going down._

Sometimes, it was a thunderstorm that a wannabe warlock was using to gather energy in order to rip people's hearts out of their bodies.

At other times, it was pouring rain in the middle of a sunny day, accompanied by Leviathan smashing through the cities.

Another big tell was screaming hordes of people running in just about every direction.

Having a literal maelstrom of bugs flying through the sky however, was a new one. At least if you ignored all that stuff in the bible.

As we approached closer to the cloud of bugs, Campanile set me back on the ground. Looking at the swarm, he asked me: "Are you sure she's on our side?"

I looked at the swarm of bugs again, and swallowed. I'd faced down a lot of nasties, including actual demons. I knew they were just bugs, that they were perfectly under control, and that they were nothing compared to the stuff I'd faced.

Nonetheless, it still creeped me out. It's not that I hate bugs, it's just that there were so many of them. How was she even controlling them all?

"I hope so," I answered.

We made our way forwards, onto the campus. It was largely abandoned, which probably had something to do with the cloud of bugs. After getting closer to the cloud, which I assumed was Skitter's way of both making civilians evacuate and alerting me to her location, I suddenly spotted her running towards use, followed by a smaller cloud of bugs, her personal attack squad.

Looking at her, it seemed like she'd ditched most of the armor pieces she'd been wearing in all the footage from Brockon Bay. She was just covered in thick silk, with her mask covering her face, and a tiny blue orb floating above her.

The effect wasn't as interesting as you'd expect when you heard about a girl wearing nothing but form-fitting silk. It was probably due to that was due to relative thickness of the material and her rather lacklustre build. Unlike her deceased teammate, Taylor lacked the curves and such that are usually associated with womanhood. Or maybe it was the scary mask and the mass of buzzing bees and poisonous spiders following her around and crawling over the silk.

She came to a stop at a small distance, looking in the direction of the humongous Campanile with what was probably distrust. It could be rather difficult to figure out facial expressions behind face-covering masks, so it was also possible that she'd already seen the pictures on Twitter, and was jealous of our relationship.

"You called for an exterminator?" I asked.

"You know what the weirdest thing is? I don't think we've actually heard that one before, despite what you'd expect from such a shitty joke," Lisa replied.

"I pride myself in my originality."

"So, what's the deal?" Campanile asked.

"We were tracking down some rumours when the werewolves entered my range, they went inside somewhere, and I used my swarm to keep them inside, didn't want them to try escaping again. I'm not sure how you want to handle this, there's quite a few of them."

"And just three of us," I said

"Hey," Lisa exclaimed, followed by a compulsory "Listen!"

"So, how many hexenwolves do we have?"

"A total of eight," Taylor replied. "And I don't recognize any of them from my previous encounter. I think there's even more of them somewhere else.

"So what now? We wait for reinforcement? They seem to be pinned down quite well," Campanile said.

"Hold on. Someone's coming," Taylor suddenly said.

"Small, female, sweating, wearing some sort of dress, a mask and I think it's a wig."

"Sounds like Parian, or maybe someone I don't know," Lisa said.

"Parian, that's a Rogue right?" Campanile asked.

"Yeah, makes big walking plushies that, apparently, can stand up to Leviathan," I said.

The rest of us also saw her as she came around a corner. Parian looked like a doll, literally. Only in this case, it was a hastily dressed doll that was wearing her wig backwards.

She came to a stop before our little group, panting heavily. As a Rogue, she'd probably thought that she didn't need to be in shape, leading to us waiting while she was trying to catch her breath, which was when I noticed the big sewing needles floating besides her, pointed at Skitter.

"Are you going to start a fight?" I asked.

"No," Parian replied, sounding surprised that I asked. I looked at her over, noted that her nose wasn't growing, and decided to trust her. I didn't know much about doll-people, but I knew that.

"But she is," she continued, pointing at Skitter with an accusing finger.

Campanile turned, and looked at Skitter again, being all intimidating and large.

"Bullshit, I haven't attacked anyone except for the werewolves," Taylor defended herself

"Hexenwolf," Lisa chimed in.

"Werewolves, hexenwolves, whatever. In either case, they're supervillains, murderers."

"What? No, where did you get that idea?"

"I presume from all the murdering?" Lisa said.

"Look, whatever you think happened last night, they were helping me out, not murdering innocent people," Parian replied. As timid as she was, she was almost yelling now.

"Wait, last night?" Campanile asked.

"There was some strange woman harassing me, and they chased her off, she escaped, but it got rather bloody. Anyway, they explained their, well, their problem to me afterwards, and I made them those clothes, and…"

"Wait, clothes?" I asked.

Parian got flustered, and it was actually kind of cute.

"Well, they were, you know… not really wearing anything. And…"

"And the Hexenwolves we're looking for can transform with their clothes on," Lisa said.

"Meaning these aren't Hexenwolves, but werewolves…" I said. "Skitter, I think you can disperse your swarm, we've got the wrong gang of shapeshifting canines."

"And once again, nakedness saved the day," Campanile added in. "Just like in high-school!"

***

About half an hour later, I was sitting in Parian's workshop, a lovely little building filled with several different boxes of yet to be unboxed fabrics, as well as several giant, animated plushies, a lanky student wearing a plush wolf mask and a strange set of clothes that, apparently, stayed on when shapeshifting, and a Parian that had taken the time to get correctly dressed. Parian was making coffee, while I was having a talk with one of the werewolves, who had apparently just decided to pretend to be parahumans.

"Well, you don't have to, but I suggest you register yourselves as an independent team anyway. It makes communication easier, and gives us some leeway we can use to give you some leeway. The PRT really likes having up to date information on gang activity as well. We'd be able to give you a warning if there was something happening, like if the vampires were going on a forcible recruiting spree."

"I'll talk about it with the others, but I can't be sure what we'll do," Billy, if that was even his real name, replied. I had a lot of questions, mostly about where exactly they'd learned to turn themselves into wolves, and if they were sure it didn't have anything to do with the other group of Lupine Theriomorphs in town, but they'd have to wait for later. Billy was tired, and he wanted to get back to his friends, given that the group had been completely terrified at the prospect of an oncoming bug apocalypse less than an hour ago.

"Can I go now?" He asked.

"Sure, I think we're done here," I replied.

"Your coffee?" Parian asked, handing me a cup of black nectar. As she handed it to me, I felt a small spark of energy pass between our hands. Nothing big, but energy nonetheless.

"Mister Myrddin, if you have a minute, I had a few questions as well," Parian said.

"Sure, go ahead." I replied while Billy was busy leaving the room in a hurry. He was a good kid, he just had a newfound appreciation for arachnophobia.

When Billy had left the room, Parian changed demeanour and removed her mask, showing a rather lovely face. Dark skin, with eyes you could absolutely drown in and full, gorgeous lips. In contrast to her blonde, European-styled outfit, she was obviously Middle-Eastern.

Thoughts started racing through my head about why she was taking off her mask. Was she a fan, hopelessly in love with me? Did she have some sort of medusa-gaze, in addition to her other powers? Was she just crazy in general?

"Are you really the Merlin?" she asked.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and let out a little laugh.

"No, I'm not nearly old and crotchety enough for that. It's just that the Image department insisted on the name."

"But you are council, I assume?" she asked.

"I am, although I have to ask, how do you know all this?" I replied.

"It's… a long story," she said, taking a drink from her cup of tea.

I looked around the little workshop again, this time armed with some more knowledge than I had been before. It was new, obviously acquired after she'd come to Chicago from Brockton, but I could already see some small touches that told me it wasn't just a place where she could sew clothes with her parahuman ability. For one thing, there weren't any mirrors in the room, even though she made clothes here. That probably had something to do with the fact that a lot of creatures from the Nevernever could use mirrors as entrances. In addition to that, there were quite a few candles standing around, meaning she could provide light when her magic made the light-bulb malfunction. Given by the fact that I'd seen a smartphone, it seemed like she wasn't all that powerful on the magical side her things,, given that her ambient energy hadn't fried it yet. Traditional knowledge held that she was just a low-level practitioner, far removed from the powerhouses of the council.

Of course, traditional knowledge ignored the massive cloth minions she could create, as well as the telekinetic needles. Combine that with the more versatile abilities that even a little bit of magical knowledge gave her, and she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Back in Brockton, I was part of a small circle. Students with a minor talent and some interest in the supernatural. We shared information, helped protect each other's rooms, studying the natural world as well as the supernatural one, stuff like that. Unlike in the movies however, we were a mixed group, men and women," she said, with a pained look on her face.

Given the general nature of parahuman abilities, I was almost entirely sure that I knew where this was going.

"You don't need to tell me if you don't want to," I replied. Think of it what you want, but I'm a bit old-fashioned and chivalric. I don't like seeing women get hurt, even if it is because they reminisce about painful memories.

"No, it's… it's alright. Anyway, eventually, one of them, one of the guys, he decided to use his abilities and knowledge to cheat on tests. One of the others disagreed, and they had a big fight about it. I didn't think anything of it at the time, because the next day they were thick as brothers.

"Then, a week or two later, he started dating one of the girls in the group. Nothing suspicious, except that the girl was already in a steady relationship.

"I was really busy with my studies, had an unwanted suitor that wouldn't leave me alone. I wasn't really paying a lot of attention to the rest, but even I thought it strange when they were suddenly in a polyamorous relationship. Not that I think there's anything wrong with that, but it was a bit weird.

"One of the other guys in the circle did have a problem with it, and he told them. The next day, they were friends again.

"It's… a few days later, he'd decided he wanted more, and he came for me as well. He tried to get into my mind, make me like him somehow. It wasn't as successful as it was with the others. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I was better at defending my mind, or because I wasn't into boys anyway. Or maybe he was a little racist deep down, and his heart wasn't in it. Anyway, he wasn't able to correctly get in."

"This warlock, is he still around?"

"No. When he noticed he'd failed, he overpowered me and locked me in the basement, waiting to recover his energy so he could try again. Before his second try however, someone else paid him a visit. A Warden, slicing through the defences we'd prepared with the circle like they were nothing. The guy, he came downstairs, taking me hostage, hoping to escape the Warden that way, but the universe had different ideas."

"You triggered," I filled in.

"I triggered, and I stabbed him in the stomach with a needle that had been lying around.

"After that, the Warden arrested him, and from what I know about Wardens, he was executed. The rest though, the other members of my little circle, they were never the same.

"For a few days, I went through life in a daze, not wanting to believe what had happened. That was when the Warden found me again. He told me some things about powers, and helped me cast a rather difficult spell."

"The binding."

"If that's what it's called. All I know is that it means I won't end up like a hormonal crime-fighter with massive issues."

"That's one of the things it does, yeah. But, that doesn't explain why you told me all of this."

"It's… I wanted to know if he's alright. He showed up at the Leviathan fight, and I lost track of him in the chaos of battle. I owe him a lot."

"And you want me to send him a message, asking if he's okay."

"If possible, yes."

"What's his name?" I asked her.

"Morgan," she answered.

Warden Morgan was most definitely someone I was familiar with. A hard, remorseless man, who absolutely hated black magic of all kinds. As a Warden, his job had been to find warlocks, those who had broken the laws of magic, and kill them.

He had also been the man who had come after me when I had killed my former master with unnatural fire. The man who had been convinced that I was a Warlock, a supernatural murderer that would only sink deeper into depravity.

The worst thing was, I could kind of understand it. After all, he hadn't known that the unnatural fire that had scorched Justin DuMorne's body to the bones had been parahuman in nature, instead of magical. No, the thing I really blamed him for was his inability to apologize for his actions.

Apparently, he'd been influenced by the chain of events as well, at least enough to help a newly triggered Parian with her brain parasite instead of accusing her of being a warlock.

"You know him?" she asked.

"We've met," I replied.

"So, these Werewolves, would you happen to know where they learned? It's probably nothing, but I find it a bit suspicious that they showed up at the same time the Hexenwolves did."

"Hexenwolves?" she asked, and I explained in more detail about the group of shapeshifters that had led Taylor here.

In return, she told me the few things the werewolves, or Alphas as they called themselves, had told her. They were learning from a woman whose identity they weren't willing to supply, and had been for a few months now, a timetable that was definitely longer than I'd been chasing the Hexenwolves.

Which gave me a working theory, one that I'd have to check with Tattletale, but which seemed very plausible indeed.

It hadn't been a coincidence that there were two groups of wolves running around, it was entirely on purpose. The Hexenwolves, whoever they were, had caught wind of the rumours about werewolves on the campus, and had decided to use them as a scapegoat, planning for exactly what had happened earlier today, minus Parian's timely intervention. It was amazing how many problems could be solved by talking things out.

They'd get their belts, take down a few choice parahuman criminals they'd been chasing for a while, aim the Protectorate in the direction of the Alphas, and pretend nothing had happened. Justice was served, supervillains would be dead, and the city would be just a little cleaner.

The problem, of course, was that Taylor had caught them in the act.

In addition to that, Taylor had made a rather visible appearance at the university, the place where, rumour had it, the werewolves were located.

And those werewolves had not been killed, meaning that Taylor knew that the Hexenwolves were a separate group.

Which meant that they would be coming after her.

That meant that my decision to keep my talks with her off the records had turned out to be rather useful. While most of the Protectorate members knew I'd been having talks with her, it wasn't the kind of thing that showed up in the paperwork. I was pretty sure the Hexenwolves were both pretty high up in whatever law enforcement agency they were part of, and that they didn't necessarily do everything by the book. That meant they had access to all of the Protectorate's paperwork, which would give them a false sense of security.

All I would have to do, was wait for the Hexenwolves to hunt down the teenage girl that had figured out their identity.


	10. Chapter 8

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 8**  
"Won't you just listen to me? I'm not a villain anymore!" I yelled, but it wasn't like they were even listening to me at this point.

Tecton's piledriver gauntlet launched down, shaking the ground, but I saw it coming through my bugs, and jumped just before he hit.

Then, in mid-air, I turned around in order to block a strike from Grace, who had used her enhanced agility to run straight through Tecton's shaker attack.

It worked, and I stopped her from actually hitting me, but I still felt the impact in my arm. Damn Strikers.

I looked around, seeing the way they'd surrounded me. Tecton, keeping me off my feet. Grace and Cuff, circling me in melee range, and Wanton and Annex were lurking somewhere, invisibly.

Tecton, finally deciding to respond to my pleas, took a heroic stance he'd probably practiced in front of a mirror.

"Foul criminal! Surrender now or we will be forced to take you down!"

I thought the pose looked silly, but the onlookers, about half of them with their smartphones out, absolutely loved it.

"Never!" I yelled back at the self-righteous Ward, and I called forth a group of flies and cockroaches from the massive swarm I'd gathered above us.

They reached me just in time, right before Grace could deliver another punch, and they swarmed her, covering almost her entire body.

Almost immediately, she fell to the floor and started screaming in agony.

Cuff, who had been hesitant about joining the fight, took that as her cue. "Noooooo!" she yelled like the overdramatic teenager she was, before she towards me, getting ready to knock me around like it was nothing with those metal gauntlets she was wearing.

I took the bugs that were swarming Grace, covered myself in them, and stepped to the side, my movements invisible in the small cloud of bugs.

Cuff missed me, and accidentally swallowed a few flies while she was roaring in rage. In the meantime, I brought more bugs down, and created a few swarm-clones around me.

Then, becoming more confident, Wanton started throwing around more pieces of rubble, destroying my swarm clones with them.

Sure, they could reform, but they would know that I wasn't located in those clouds of bugs.

"Come out and fight, you coward!" Tecton yelled, walking forwards all heroically. He was laying it on a little thick. Perhaps he wasn't as good in acting as he thought he was.

I pretend to humour him, and sent one of the swarm-clones forwards, slowly walking for Tecton. In the meantime, I made my way to the fringes of the battlefield, and started focussing on the bugs on the outer reaches of my range.

It had been pretty easy to find Revel, Myrddin, Shuffle, Snaptrap and Tattletale. They were hiding in the tunnels that were spread throughout the city, long forgotten and abandoned. I'd noticed them before, when large concentrations of bugs came into range beneath the earth, and apparently Tecton was quite familiar with their layout, as he had pointed out the hiding spot to the Protectorate members before the battle began.

Outside of that however, I couldn't sense anyone, except for the onlookers standing around, gawking with their phones out. I desperately hoped that the Hexenwolves would hurry, because it was actually rather difficult to have an extended pretend-fight like this. I just couldn't find any excuses not to immediately swarm Tecton, Grace and Cuff with a horde of bees, and I was quite sure that Wanton could easily counter me if he wanted to. His Breaker state was completely immune to my insects, and he could move around inside of it. I wasn't entirely sure about the specifics though, maybe he could only move within a specific range of his point of origin, or maybe he could only stay transformed for a number of seconds that was a multiple of seven but not of three. Powers could be weird like that, and someone not doing something obvious wasn't always a sign of them being stupid.

Then again, Wanton did give off the impression that he was kind of stupid. Maybe that was because he sounded like he was ordering something at Starbucks whenever he transformed, or because he was such a big Myrddin fan.

Then again, Harry was an actual wizard rather than a crazy person, and he actually used pseudo-Latin phrases to cast spells, so maybe there was something to it, and yelling out Italian-sounding words actually helped improve Wanton's power.

Getting an idea for a plan to buy us more time, I gathered a large part of my swarm, and instead of creating a swarm-clone, roughly the size and shape of my own body, I created a larger mass, with four legs and a tusk-like teeth things made out of bees where it's face should be.

Most of them were confused, but Grace seemed to have figured out what I was trying to do. She took a fighting stance, ran forwards, dodged past the bee-tusks, and smashed a fist into the head, at which moment I scattered the bugs making up the head, making it seem like she'd blown apart some sort of construct.

Given all the cameras around here, it seemed like a good idea to make people get the wrong idea about my powers. If a supervillain wanted to fight me and though I couldn't control bugs outside of pre-made construct, then I'd be able to get one up over them.

As my first bug construct fell apart, I created several more, swarming the Wards with them. They followed Grace's lead, and started fighting them, dodging my attacks and striking at the swarms with fists, after which I made them fall apart. It went on like that for a few minutes, until I felt Tattletale bump into one of my cockroaches, squishing it. It was the sign we'd prepared beforehand, and it meant I'd have to make my retreat.

I started running in their general direction, and made the cloud of bugs follow me, leaving the assembled Wards behind. Not half a minute later, I'd found the Hexenwolves, running my way in wolf form. Trying to catalogue the differences, it seemed that these were slightly larger and more bulky than the werewolves had been, and they weren't wearing anything, probably because their clothes joined them in their transformation.

I signalled the Protectorate members, hidden in a tunnel just below the ground, in Undertown, using fireflies to give them a path roughly parallel to my own, only a dozen feet below me.

In the distance, I felt one of the Hexenwolves stand still, sniffing the air around him, before taking the lead, bringing the pair straight towards me.

Which was a problem, since there had been four of them the last time I'd checked.

I let my back-up know as much by writing out a big two in bugs, and took my position.

I leaned against the wall of a building, holding my arm to me, like I remembered doing when it had been broken in the Leviathan fight. If the Hexenwolves thought I was wounded, and easy pickings, then that was all the better.

Then, I saw them come around the corner, saw them with my own eyes.

They were big, bigger than the Werewolves had been, and they looked savage. I'd say they were animalistic, but they reminded me more of Rachel's dogs, when they were transformed, than of any actual animal. Drool dripped from their gaping maws as they spotted me, obviously happy with the easy target. I just hoped that Lisa and Harry were right, and that they weren't expecting this to be a set-up.

So if they didn't know anything weird was up, why were there only two of them here? Where had the other two gone?

The two of them stalked forwards, coming closer to me, and I didn't exactly need to pretend to be afraid. It was primal, the fear of being stalked by predators.

I waited until they were even closer, until I judged that they were within the range Shuffle had given me. Then, I gave them my sign.

It is one thing to hear someone explain his powers, it's another to see it happen.

Shuffle was a teleporter, but strangely enough, he wasn't a mover. He had what is called a Manton limit on his powers, something that stopped him from using it on living beings, especially humans, and apparently Hexenwolves.

What he did teleport, was the landscape itself. Or in this case, the street the wolves were standing on, starting from the point right before my feet, which was also right in front of Shuffle, a few dozen feet below me.

The wolves, now standing on air like a Loony Tunes character, crashed down, landing roughly level with the Protectorate members.

 _"Forzare"_ I heard Harry yell out, but the spell wasn't accompanied by a blast of force flying towards the wolves. Instead, Revel flew out towards the wolves, her lantern charged with magical energies.

She soared above the gap in the landscape, and launched an orb of pure energy towards the wolves at incredible speed.

Not wanting to be outdone, I gathered my swarm, and got ready to join in on the fight.

The Hexenwolves, supernaturally agile, managed to dodge Revels opening salvo. They couldn't, however, dodge the follow-up.

One of them was hit by an overly large grenade, thrown forwards with the help of a miniature black hole by Snaptrap. "Got him!" he yelled enthusiastically. The other got hit by a blast of wind from Myrddin. From the lack of incantation, as well as the glowing sigil in the air front of him, it seemed like he'd been using his parahuman ability instead of his magic.

The grenade exploded in a thin white mist I recognized. Containment foam. It started to expand, taking in the air and greatly increasing in size, completely coating the front half of the wolf. "You take the other one," Snaptrap yelled out, cocky, happy that he had beaten one of the creatures.

The other enemy, the one that had been thrown by Myrddin, crashed through an empty storefront, landing in a cloud of biting insects. Mosquitos and bees, joined by stinging ants on the ground. The wolf howled out in pain, and started to try and run, but Revel had expected that to happen, and a second orb of force crashed into it, dealing tremendous damage. I could almost hear the cracking of bones from where I was standing.

Revel was one scary lady.

Myrddin joined her, _"Fuego"_ , followed by a massive blast of flames appearing from the tip of his staff. Then, he created another sigil in the air, and the half-fried wolf disappeared from my senses, temporarily banished after having been broken, bruised, boiled and bitten. It'd also been stung, but that didn't quite fit the sentence.

Then, just as I'd thought we, or rather the Protectorate, had achieved victory and the plan had worked, I felt the second wolf dashing towards me at a tremendous pace. Below me, in the now exposed Undercity, I heard Snaptrap yell something, and my bugs felt a strange pull that signified another use of his ability, and another grenade.

I looked at the wolf, and saw that it had escaped the layer of foam it had been coated in, probably by turning him or herself into a much smaller human, turning back after getting loose.

The wolf jumped, effortlessly dodging the second grenade Snaptrap had flung, flying straight at me. I jumped back, covering my retreat with a swarmclone and sending the rest of my bugs at the wolf. Then, before it could clear the pit, a chunk of stone appeared between me and the beast, roughly wall-like. Probably a last-ditch measure by Shuffle.

Sadly, it wasn't as effective as it could have been, and after the wolf crashed into it, it managed to climb on top of it, its deadly eyes aimed straight at me while I was running away from it.

My bugs were making it bleed, but that didn't really matter if it managed to eviscerate me.

I ran, as fast as I'd ever run before, but when the beast jumped down and started running after me, it quickly became clear that it was very much faster than I was.

Behind it, I heard Harry yelling something, and something crashed into the wall that Shuffle had created to try and shield me. It didn't matter, because the wolf pounced, and I wasn't able to dodge it, even though I knew perfectly well that it was coming.

It crashed into my back, and threw me to the ground, where I landed on my back after rolling over a couple of times.

The beast's razor-sharp claws went out, and it slashed at my belly, attempting to eviscerate me.

I was very very happy that I had been wearing my armour plates on top of the silk, and it seemed that the combination of silk and plating stopped the beast from cutting straight into my belly.

Before it could get a proper grip and start tearing through the silk, one of Revel's orbs slammed into it, throwing it off of me.

Thinking quickly, I let go of my bugs, making them scatter and cover the area on my stomach the beast had attacked. Hopefully, the beast, man or woman, would believe me dead in its haste to flee from an absolutely livid Revel.

Another orb flew over me, and I followed it by tracing the spontaneously dying bugs. The wolf dodged, but Revel wasn't just your average cape. She was team leader in one of the largest cities in the country, which meant she was an incredibly capable combatant. Her orb changed trajectory in mid-air, and tracked the running beast.

Once the wolf was out of sight, I tried sitting up, wincing at the bruises the wolf had inflicted upon me, I was going to be black and blue tomorrow. I bit through the pain, and tried standing when I was surprised by Revel's hand on my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she asked, terse and to the point.

"Some bruises, but he didn't get through my costume," I replied.

She nodded in confirmation of my reply, and turned around, looking in the direction of her assembled team members.

"Shuffle, go get the van. We need to get Skitter here to the clinic at HQ. She might have some internal bleeding. Myrddin, my last strike drew blood. Gather it, and prepare one of your tracking abilities. And Snaptrap…" she looked in his direction, and I saw that he was almost cowering beneath her gaze.

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

"Let it be clear that this was the last time I'll ever trust you in the field. I know you have a reputation for being both capable and independent, and I made the mistake of trusting in that reputation. Instead of living up to it, you lied to us which led to a tactical mistake and a teenager that almost died," Revel said, floating in front of him, making herself taller than him so that he would have to look up to her.

Instead of replying, Snaptrap just stood there, unable to figure out how to reply.

"I'd double your patrols, but you'd love that, wouldn't you? A chance to get even more attention from the media. No, instead, I'll you a warning. You either fail, embarrass the team or get someone hurt one more time, and I'll trade you to the containment zone at Madison. Nicely away from all the fame you love so very much."

He looked angry, about to yell something, until he thought better of it and just apologized instead.

"Yes ma'am, I'm sorry ma'am, it won't happen again."

"It better not," Revel replied.

In the meantime, Tattletale came fluttering over to me, taking a look at the torn armour segments around my waist.

"Looks like your armouring worked, that could have been a lot nastier," she said.

"Yeah, a bit bruised, but I've had worse."

"You sure there were only two of them here?" Lisa asked, she looked sceptical about the bruises I wasn't sure how I'd noticed it, she just kind of gave off that impression through her floating.

"Yeah, just those two, nothing else. It's weird," I replied.

"Not really, now that I think about it. Remember, they wanted to aim the Protectorate at the Alphas, and make them think they were responsible. But the problem was that you knew they were separate groups."

"But… it wasn't just me."

"No, Parian was there too. So if they wanted to destroy all the witnesses."

"Then they're going for Parian."

"You're sure of this?" Revel asked, joining in the conversation.

"It's either that, or there's internal strife in their group, and I don't think we can bank on that," Tattle tale said.

"Very well. I'll send a few squads to the campus. Myrddin, do you have enough material?"

I looked at Harry, who was using a small vial to gather blood from the floor.

"I think so yeah, I should be able to track our perp anywhere in the city, unless the whole blood thing doesn't hold up with the transformation."

"Wait, you can track people through blood?" I asked him.

"Blood, hair, stuff like that. I establish a connection between the part and the whole, and use that as a means to target my spellwork, including tracking," he replied.

"Wait… you can track people like that, and you didn't tell me?"

"I have to agree. That wasn't a good move," Revel said. "Skitter, do you have any mosquitos left from your first encounter with them?" she asked me.

"No, it's been a few days, and even if it's not digested yet, I didn't bring those bugs," I replied.

"Too bad, but keep it in mind for the next encounter."

I saw several vans arrive, as well as the Wards. Myrddin, done gathering materials for his tracking spell, and was showing a larger vehicle with a foamsprayer on top the location of the banished Hexenwolf.

"I gotta say, those massive bug-monsters were really fucking cool!" Annex said. I hadn't exactly noticed him in the fight, mostly due to the nature of his powers. I couldn't affect him when he was in his breaker state, but he couldn't do much against my bugs either.

"Hey, don't fucking swear," Grace said, "Or do you want us to go through another fucking PR course?"

"And force us to look at an attractive young woman for an hour straight? Oh no, what a horror!" Wanton joked back at her.

"Cut it out or I'll ask Heathrow for a fat granny next time," Tecton said.

"What, can't we get a burly hot guy instead?" Grace said.

"What, you want a dude with muscles _**and**_ a degree in communications studies? Good luck with that," Tattletale joined in.

I opened my mouth, trying to say something about finding a golden, Brian-shaped mean between twink and muscle-freak, but stopped after feeling one of my bruises start hurting when I breathed in. In the background, behind me, I felt a fly on Revel's head move. She was looking in my direction.

Shuffle arrived in a smaller van, opening up the back, showing a seating area on both sides, as well as a small medical kit.

"Grace, Cuff, with me," Revel said, commanding the two girls. Then, she put a hand on my back, gently pushing me into the van, and closing the door once Grace, Cuff and Tattletale had followed. Then, she clicked a button on her earpiece for a second.

"Shuffle, take us back to base. Everyone else, we'll be taking a short break in order to let the suspect return to his allies. Then, we take them down."

When she was done she turned to me, and pointed to the stretcher located on a table just behind the driver's compartment.

"I presume you can't actually take off part of your costume, and I don't think cutting the obstructing material away would actually work, given how strong it is."

"It's spider silk," Tattletale supplied. "And I think one of her ribs might be cracked."

After hearing the two of them, I understood why she'd asked for Grace and Cuff specifically. They were both girls, and while I thought Tattletale and Revel were overreacting, I appreciated the idea behind the gesture.

"Skitter, you don't feel pain as much as other people do, so it's probably worse than you think," Tattletale said.

Begrudgingly, I obliged them, and tried to remove my costume, except for the mask. Taking off the armour segments, I noticed I had some problems getting to the ones behind me, my arms sore from being thrown to the ground.

"What happened?" Cuff asked. "Did we hurt you by accident?"

"One of the wolves got her," Revel replied. "Snaptrap fucked up."

I saw a sly smile appear in Grace's face, happy that she'd caught her boss cursing.

Noticing my difficulties, Cuff started helping undo the clasps and straps that held the armour segments in place. Once they were all removed, I sat down on the little medical bed, and let Revel help me out of the tight-fitting silk.

"Yeah, pretty sure you've got a cracked rib, no dangerous internal bruising though," Tattletale said.

"You are sure of this?" Revel asked her.

"Pretty sure yeah, my power isn't usually wrong with stuff like this unless I get faulty information."

The rest of the journey was relatively boring. Revel was fussing around with a few ice packs, and Cuff and Grace had started arguing about a local television series. I wondered about it, trying to fit together the stern but motherish figure giving me first aid together with the shouting, no-nonsense battlefield commander that mercilessly crushed werewolves with her ability and tore down her subordinates with nothing but her voice.

Was it because of my age? Did she feel responsible for me getting hurt? Was the no-nonsense attitude a natural defence against Myrddin's general zaniness?

Eventually, Cuff gathered up her courage, and asked Tattletale a question.

"So, are you really a ghost?" she asked.

"That really depends upon your definitions. I'm not a traditional ghost, seeing as I still have a soul and everything, but ghost is probably the closest thing to describe what I am," Lisa replied.

"Yeah, right, souls. Are you sure you're not just an advanced A.I. or something that Myrddin put inside of that old drone?"

"I don't think so. I mean, it's possible that Myrddin programmed me into thinking I was a ghost, but I could say the same thing about you. I mean, are you sure you aren't secretly a construct he created? That you only think you're real?"

"What? That's ridiculous, of course I'm real. I have a family, a school life, and hell, I have a body!"

"Well, I also had a family, as well as a G.E.D. Do you really think there's no way for Myrddin to have created your family as well? I mean, come on, metal manipulation? Does that sound like a real power to you, or is it something that Myrddin gave to a metal golem in order to allow it to walk around?"

"I'm not a Golem!" Cuff yelled, while Grace started giggling. I was about to join her, but the movement was hurting, and I almost immediately stopped.

"Prove it!" Tattletale said.

"Both of you stop before someone starts cutting herself," Revel said sternly, trying to keep it together by pressing ice packs against my ribs.

"Still not a Golem…" Cuff mumbled, holding her arms over each other while trying to get the last word in. Lisa just replied by making little whistley noises, fluttering around before deciding to give Revel unnecessary feedback on her first aid skills.

After a few minutes, I felt the van enter into the belly of the beast, by which I mean a garage next to what could only have been the local Protectorate HQ. Unlike Brockton Bay, where the Protectorate and the PRT operated out of different buildings, the PRT HQ and the Protectorate base were located in the same building in Chicago. Instead, they had smaller outposts spread throughout the city, containing a fast-response squad of PRT troops as well as, according to the internet, luxurious waiting rooms where the local Parahumans took decadent breaks from their patrols, lounging on expensive massage chairs and drinking only the finest wine.

Then again, that same source also claimed that Myrddin was dating the head of the local vampire gang, and that Campanile was Legend's side-piece.

"Grace, Cuff, Tattletale, I need you three to get to the infirmary, tell them they need to get the x-ray machine ready," Revel said as the Shuffle parked the van.

I thought Tattletale was about to say something, but she didn't, and left the van with the two Wards.

"So, about that conversation you had with Myrddin," she said.

"You mean like how he's a wizard, and Tattletale's a ghost now?" I replied.

"You believe his claims? But no, that wasn't what I meant."

"You mean the other thing… my history."

"Your being a supervillain yes, or at least a former supervillain," she said.

I looked down at the floor, trying to evade her gaze.

"I'd never intended to go there, It's just… with everything that happened," I replied.

"I've read some of the reports from Armsmaster, especially the parts between the lines. I don't agree with your actions, but I can understand them, and I trust that they weren't out of malice.

"Outside of that, you present a problem for me. Going by the books, I should make you a probationary Ward. It would make sure you stayed on the right path, stop any supervillains from attempting to recruit you, and ensure you have a support system.

"Now, before you say anything, let me finish. Harry told me about your problems with the Wards, and I can respect that. However, I am going to put down some ground rules.

"First of all, you will report any incidents with supervillains to the PRT. Second, any proactive capering goes through me for approval. And last but most certainly not least, if you want to stay out of high-school, you're going to get your GED. Break those rules, and I'm recruiting you whether you like it or not. Understood?"

I looked at her; she had a stern expression on her face that sort of reminded me of my mother's when she caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. Eventually, I decided to mimic what I'd seen someone else done, less than an hour before.

"Yes ma'am."

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Cuff, who was running through the garage to our van, slamming the door open.

"Boss, we've got a problem," she said.

"What is it?" Revel asked her, going back to her business face.

"There's a panicky naked lady with crazy eyes in the lobby, and she's asking for Myrddin." 


	11. Chapter 9

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 9**  
Being both a wizard and a cape at the same time, I lead an exciting life. Not a week goes by without some sort of trouble finding its way to me. Sometimes, it was just a bunch of drug-dealing capes getting high on their own supply of third-eye inducing superdrugs, and sometimes it was trolls under bridges complaining that automated toll booths were stealing their income.

Through all that, I'd started to figure out the pattern behind it. On average, the more attractive the woman involved, the bigger the trouble. On the lower end of the scale, you have Revel, who usually accompanies a long-winded tirade about how I should call demons Case 53's, even though they were obviously different things. Now don't take this the wrong way, she's a nice lady, but she's got this whole stern commander thing going on that just doesn't do it for me.

On the other end of the scale, you have my fairy godmother, Leanansidhe. Unlike what the Disney movies tell you, not all fairy godmothers are fat shapeless blobs. Mine was a killer lady with long scarlet-copper hair, who was exactly as terrifying as she was mind-blowingly gorgeous.

Now, this theory of mine isn't really scientific or anything like that. In fact, it's probably just confirmation bias. Then again, Ziz is a naked lady, and definitely the most dangerous of the endbringers.

I wasn't entirely sure where on that spectrum the woman standing in the lobby fell, but the fact that she was naked probably meant shit was going to go down, worse than it already was.

She was looking around the lobby, her deep amber eyes flitting between the PRT squad, the on looking tourists, and the heroes. Eventually, her eyes noticed me, and she walked towards me.

Some of the troopers reacted; they were agitated, on edge, and probably slightly aroused and or jealous.

I held up my hand, signalling that they shouldn't attack. Then, I took stock of our visitor.

First, I used one of the small side-effects of my parahuman abilities. My powers allowed me to create interdimensional portals to pocket dimension, in a way that was at least slightly similar to the way the _'_ _Para_ , _'_ as Lisa called them, connected to their hosts. This allowed me to, when I took a good look at someone, figure out something about their power. It wasn't all that useful. Looking at Revel that way allowed me to see that her power had something to do with redirection, while Campanile had size and weight, and Skitter had control.

Where it was really useful, however, was in figuring out whether or not someone had powers. The strange naked woman did not. At least not of the parahuman kind.

Next, I used my sight, a magical ability that allowed people like me to look at the world with the metaphorical third eye.

Looking at the woman, I still saw her standing there. Her shaggy, dark brown hair had gotten longer, and wilder, and she walked even more gracefully than before. Her eyes were wild, animalistic, but not in the way the Hexenwolves had been. She was both dangerous , graceful, and lethal. Like a predator. In addition to that, she was most definitely not human which could explain her nudity.

I shut off my sight before I could see more. It was an incredibly useful ability, but much like a soulgaze, the stuff you saw through the sight stayed with you. Given a crowded place like this, with a lot of parahumans around, that meant seeing a lot of interdimensional creatures hanging around.

"I heard you were looking for me?" I said.

"I used the telephone, but they did not help when I asked to speak to you wizard," she replied.

"Yeah, they get about fifty calls a day from women asking to speak to me. Turns out I'm a lot more attractive when you've never met me in person."

"You misunderstand, I did not ask out of lust, I require assistance. I was talking to lady Sabah when she was been taken by two pretenders," The woman replied.

My mind started working on the sentence, trying to figure out exactly what she was saying. There was someone called Sabah that she had been talking to, when two things she calls pretenders took her. Now, given that she probably wasn't human, it seemed like the pretenders were people pretending to be what she actually was. Now all I had to do was add the timing of the whole thing, sprinkle it with a little _'_ _there were two of them'_ , finish it off with a little pot-boiled Tattletale telling me the Hexenwolves were going after Parian, and what you had was a nice healthy figuring out a Rogue's secret identity by accident.

The real question was, why had this woman been talking to Parian, and what was her relationship with the Alphas.

"We're working on it," I told her. It was sort of true. I'd been preparing a tracking spell that would allow us to find the Hexenwolf that had attacked Taylor, which would hopefully lead us to the rest of them.

Revel appeared beside me, having arrived from whatever she had been doing. Like telling Taylor not to rob any banks or something like that.

"You said this woman was taken. Are you sure she is still alive? That doesn't match what we know of their Modus Operandi."

The woman looked puzzled, trying to figure out the sentence. It was something you saw every now and then with inhuman creatures. She was obviously intelligent, but her mental processes didn't necessarily work in the same way as a human's. Given her relatively straightforward statements, and her primal nature, my guess was that Revel's question had somehow tripped her up.

"Yes, Lady Sabah was taken. That is what I said."

"Do you know why they were after her?" Revel asked.

I looked around, my eyes lingering on the civilian visitors, and spotted Tattletale flying towards us.

"Maybe get all the onlookers out of here?" she said.

Revel nodded, and gave a signal to the troopers, who started herding people away from the naked woman.

"I do not know. I was talking to her, as I required her help, but we were interrupted."

"In other words, they decided to kidnap her instead of killing her after overhearing the conversation," Lisa said.

"Which means that kidnapping her brought them closer to their goal than killing her," Revel observed.

"So, besides the Alphas, who else did you teach the whole werewolf thing?" Lisa asked.

I was only slightly surprised, but Revel was actually shocked. It only made sense. She hadn't seen Lisa do her thing yet, and she didn't believe in the details surrounding the whole magic thing. In her mind, the woman in front of us was, at most, a powerful Trump that could turn people into werewolves.

"I did not teach him anything. If only it was so easy," the woman replied with sorrow in her voice.

"But you are the one that taught the Alphas?" I asked. She nodded in confirmation.

"So, what aren't you saying?" Revel asked.

"My fiancé, his circle was broken. I was asking lady Sabah for assistance in repairing it."

"Circle?" Revel asked, aiming a sideways glance at me. Sceptical as she might be, she knew I worked with circles every now and then. In fact, I'd used part of the Protectorate budget for a fancy summoning circle in my little workshop, under the guise of a mental tool to help me focus my powers.

"Let me guess. Loup-Garou," I said, thinking of the worst likely option. Loup-Garous, unlike Werewolves, Lycanthropes or Hexenwolves, have almost no control over their actions. If this woman's fiancé was one of those, and didn't have a working containment circle, we were in for what the doctor would call a spontaneous case of diarhea in close proximity to an automated themantidote.

"Loup-Garou?" Revel asked me.

"More traditional werewolf. Transforms during the full moon. It's big, it's dangerous, it regenerates faster than Crawler, it's out of control, and the only weakness is inherited silver," I answered.

"Right…" she said, before turning to the naked woman. "When you say your fiancé, I presume you mean mister MacFinn?"

The woman looked confused for a second, before Revel clarified. "Massive amounts of collateral damage the night you say his circle was broken? Not much of a mystery I'm afraid."

"So, Hexenwolves coming in for the kill overhear your conversation, learn of MacFinn's werewolf-hood, kidnap Parian so she can't fix the circle, and hope MacFinn solves their problem for them," Lisa said.

"Their problem?" the woman asked.

"The fact that we're all still alive," Lisa answered.

"Doesn't make sense, if their operations were synchronized, they didn't know the Skitter thing was a set-up," I said.

"Yeah, but the Alpha plan was wishful thinking from the beginning. All it would take is one of them surrendering and a powerful Thinker for the whole plan to fall through. Given a Berserk opponent though, one that is way more likely to be able to kill a couple of you, it becomes drastically more likely that the he's either killed in battle or send straight to the birdcage, after which office politics, assisted by their subtle manoeuvring in civilian identities, makes it more convenient not to investigate everything overly much. Also, you see what I did there with the plan A Alpha thing?"

"If we rescue, will she be able to keep your fiancé contained?" Revel asked.

"I think so, yes. Her or the wizard," she replied.

"Right. Of course he can. Well, the new plan is the old plan. Campanile and Dovetail will be arriving in about ten minutes. Myrddin, make sure you have your tracking device ready by then. We'll move out as soon as they get here. Tecton, your team holds down the fort. Miss…?" she said, looking at the woman at the end of the sentence.

"West, Tera West," she replied.

"I see. I presume, from your appearance, that you have something to offer in a fight. Will you be joining us?" Revel asked.

"To rescue my beloved? Yes," Tera replied as she started shifting, slowly turning into lithe and agile timber wolf.

Just what we needed, more werewolves. I was suddenly really happy that it was Skitter that survived and came to Chicago, not Hellhound.

***

Eventually, I'd tracked the Hexenwolves down to a luxurious estate just outside of Chicago itself. And no, it wasn't MacFinn's estate. If only it were.

No, instead, the little golden nameplate had a very similar, very familiar name embossed onto it.

 _'_ _Marcone_ '

Gentleman Johnny Marcone, as he liked to call himself, was one of those criminal masterminds that would, in the end, probably go down for tax evasion. He had fingers in every criminal enterprise you could think of, as well as some non-criminal activities, and he was a feared individual in the Chicago underworld.

The real kicker, however, was that our best intelligence told us that he had absolutely no powers at all. In a political landscape filled with Thinkers, Brutes, actual vampires and other such things, that was an accomplishment.

More worrying was the fact that the gate that had been barring the road had been removed, violently. In addition to that, there were grooves in the concrete that reminded me of the ones around the ruined corpse of the Blue Beetle.

"Anything else we need to know about?" Revel asked the wolf stalking besides her. Which probably wasn't the right word, but with the way Tera moved, I couldn't think of anything else to describe it. Tera transformed back to naked lady in order to answer the question.

"The girl… she was with Harley, they must have taken him too," she replied before shifting back to wolf form.

"Right. Of course, that sound like it makes sense…" Revel replied, having given up. "Myrddin, how much longer until moonrise?"

I looked at my watch, an old-fashioned hourpiece that was so ancient that it actually worked around me.

"Roughly half an hour," I replied. The tracking process had taken longer than I'd expected, the Hexenwolves' blood having been polluted somehow by the magic used in the transformation, not entirely the same as the blood of the human involved. Intermittently, the spell had been working optimally, probably at the exact moment my target had changed back into a wolf.

I suddenly heard a voice in my head. Director Heathrow.

"We just got ID on our imprisoned perp. He's FBI. Be careful, they'll be armed and dangerous, and that's not counting their new powers," the director said.

"You get him to talk yet?" Revel asked.

"No, but Myrddin's newest toy is working on him. He's angry and wild, seemingly unnaturally so. We're guessing it's a side-effect of their artefacts."

"I see. We'll make sure not to touch them then. Don't want anyone to get corrupted by them."

"Good luck, team," Heathrow replied. "Over and out."

Revel looked around at the assembled troops, and started formulating a plan.

"Allright. I'm not sure what we'll find, but it's highly likely that Marcone is not actually guilty here. Our first priority is finding both Parian and MacFinn, and figuring out a way to stop his Changer power from activating. Dovetail, you're our eye in the sky. Campanile, Myrddin, West, the three of you are joining me in a direct assault, at least presuming they're at the mansion. Squad A, you're with us. B and C, scout out the terrain in your vans. You see anything move, you foam it down, we'll sort everything out later. Shuffle, stick with Team B, use your abilities to clear any areas where the enemy could be hiding. And remember, Marcone might not be guilty, but the entire situation is suspicious, and we have a proper justification to be here."

Meaning, we're not supposed to fight Marcone, but don't feel too bad about devastating his pretty little estate. Maybe mess up his private golf course a bit. Revel was pissed, she had a target, and she had a location where she didn't have to worry overly much about collateral damage. This was going to be interesting.

"Snaptrap, you're guarding the entrance, try not to fuck it up. Everyone else, time to move out."

Together, the three of us, accompanied by four highly trained PRT officers, one with a foam sprayer and one with a grenade launcher, made our way down the long driveway.

Marcone's mansion looked like it was a warzone. Several smoke grenades were covering the front, obscuring our sight, but where we could see, it looked like the front of the building had been absolutely demolished, and the rest of the building was lit by powerful search lights. On the roof, I saw something that was best described as a candry red metal rhinoceros tearing things apart, and several armed men were shooting roughly in our direction. Or rather, somewhere in between us and the building. The smoke grenades however, meant that while their enemy couldn't see them, they couldn't see their enemy either.

"Myrddin, we need to obscure our angle of approach," Revel said.

"On it," I replied, preparing a sign with my staff, an opening towards a pocket dimension prepared for just this moment.

The sigil I'd drawn in the air exploded forwards in an absolutely blinding light, temporarily destroying the night vision of anyone in front of us. Then, I switched to my magic, and hoped I wouldn't overly mess up the gear the squad was using. Tecton had worked on it, so it would probably be okay, but I wasn't entirely sure.

 _"_ _Hexus"_ I muttered, aiming my will and my magic at the large lamps lighting up our target, leaving only a nearly gone evening sun to light things up.

As our group started jogging, I looked around, and saw that we were missing someone.

"Where's Tera?" I asked in between breaths.

"I think she ran ahead," one of the troopers answered.

Half a minute later, I spotted her. Or rather, she allowed me to spot her. I signalled her position to Revel, and we made our way over to where she was standing. A large rock in between her and the mansion, with bullets flying around it wildly.

A young teenage girl, about fourteen years old or so, was sitting next to her, wearing an overly large Cuirass and a mask with a lopsided smiley face on it. On top of the mask were two tiny antenna made out of bolts. I would've thought it neat for something made by a teenager, except for the part where this girl had obviously demolished the Blue Beetle in a fit of, well, I don't know why.

The girl looked shocked to see us, and hid behind Tera's furry body. Tera, in the meantime, was mostly just confused about the girl's reaction, and transformed back to naked lady again. Not that I'm complaining, but it gets old after a while, I'd probably seen her naked more than I'd seen Susan without clothes on, and I'd only known her for a single day.

"What happened?" Tera asked her.

"I was in the bathroom, changing my, you know… anyway, these two cops came by, citing noise complaints and something with building codes, and they arrested Harley. I thought it was weird, so I followed them, and saw them go into this place, so I decided to rescue him,"

"By attacking a completely unrelated criminal masterind," I said.

"Alleged criminal mastermind," Revel corrected me.

"What? No, I saw them jump the fence to this place, and there's like fifty guys with guns here. It's obviously him!" the girl said.

"Or, it's a set-up, they're creating the biggest clusterfuck they can, muddy the waters by getting Marcone involved."

Revel's hand went to her earpiece. "Dovetail, Squads B and C, you find anything yet?"

"Outside of the fighting at the mansion? Not much. I presume that flash was you guys?"

"Myrddin's work. Tell me when you've got more."

"Will do, good luck in there."

"You too."

"So, what now?" I asked.

"Now, we're going to do something utterly unprecedented. We're going to try and have a civil talk with Marcone," Revel replied.

***

Revel and I entered Marcone's half-destroyed mansion under a white flag made out of a piece of my robe, leaving the rest behind us. Waiting in the lobby, I spotted Marcone. All around him stood thugs with guns, high-quality guns that were probably legal according to the letter of the law, but very much not the spirit. The real stand-out was a rather big and tall man standing next to him, taller than me even, with red hair in a military buzz cut.

"Miss Revel, how nice to meet you again, how have you been?" the man asked.

"Busy, you know, with all the crime-fighting and saving innocent people," Revel replied.

"Ah, like our little problem outside? I promise, I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I know what people say about me, but you can trust me, I'm a perfect gentleman."

"Trust me Marcone, better men than you have tried, she's not interested," I said.

"Of course Myrddin. That said, we both know you don't quite match up to a man like me," he replied.

That stung. Not because he'd insulted me, but because I had to admit that, when I'd started out in the Protectorate, I'd had a small crush on Revel, and I still wasn't entirely sure whether seeing her crush a ghoul's skull to smithereens had destroyed or enhanced that crush.

"And you, of course, are a real Casanova. I mean, I presume that's how you got the big guy to work for you?"

"Shut it Myrddin, we're not here to fight., or flirt for that matter," Revel commanded.

"Which brings us to an important question, why are you here?" Marcone asked.

"We have actionable intelligence telling us that someone is trying to frame you for murder," Revel said.

"The question being of course, why they needed to frame you when everybody already knows you're as guilty as a fox in a henhouse."

"Myrddin, remind me again why I brought you along?"

"My charming personality? The fact that, unlike Campanile, I can move beyond punnage into superior forms of humour?"

"That, and no-one takes you seriously anyways. Disregarding that, mister Marcone, there are three members of a group that we have dubbed the Hexenwolves on your premises, carrying at least one, but probably two hostages. The assault on your home was caused by someone mistakenly thinking you responsible."

"Gee, I wonder why anyone would think that?"

Revel gave me a quick kick in the shins, more for show than out of anger. After all, she'd known how I'd behave the moment she asked me to come along.

"Regretteable, that they would attempt to shift blame unto an upstanding citizen such as myself," Marcone replied. "Now, I presume you're here to ask me for help?"

"From someone like you? Never. I'm simply here to inform you that I will view any attack from you on anyone that is not the hexenwolves as an attack on me, and that you will allow us unobstructed access to your grounds in order to find these villains."

"But of course, I am, after all, an upstanding citizen. In fact, you have my utmost compliance. Taking down these criminals is, after all, in favour of both of us."

"Of course," Revel said.

"Well, you know the way out, and I can promise you that they are not inside right now. Oh, and Myrddin?" Marcone said. "I'm sorry to hear about your car, I know you love the classics."

I had been about to turn around, but that last sentence made me look at him again.

Marcone and I had met before, once. It had been last year, when a practicioner was using dark magic to build up a drug empire, in opposition to Marcone.

Marcone had been nice, gentlemanly even, providing me with whatever information he could on the case. Not because he was such a nice person, bu because he knew that it would mean that I eliminated one of his main competitors. What I hated about it, was that he knew that I would stop the guy anyways. He had been using me, plain and simple, and there was nothing I could do about it.

"I hope you have a lot of fun redecorating," I said. "And maybe this time you can get an actual shark tank. Trust me, all the big boys have one."

"Ah yes, and next time, I'll be sure to find a Tinker to requisition a very slowly moving laserbeam," he replied.

"Don't forget the big red self-destruct button!" I yelled at him while following Revel, who was leaving the building.

"Don't worry, I've read the list too. I'm still working on acquiring the services of a five-year-old."

"As long as your doomsday device is up to code. Trust me, you do NOT want to mess with the OSHA, they're even worse than the IRS!" I yelled back before using my powers to create white noise. I just really wanted to make sure that I had the last word.

"How long Myrddin?" Revel asked me.

"Fifteen minutes left before the dogshit hits the fan."

Again, she spoke in her earpiece. "Dovetail, we're done here. Any further observations?"

Then, she waited for the answer, which didn't come.

"B-squad, C-squad, report in, what's happened to Dovetail?" she then said. I really had to ask Tecton for a custom earpiece.

After a few tense seconds, it seemed like one of the squads was replying. Revel, always courteous, put her earpiece on speaker mode.

"-got two of them around some sort of pit-like structure. They're carrying Dovetail, and I think she's sedated or something. There's also a girl, college-aged, and an older man, both of them bound and unconscious," The crackling voice came over the radio.

"Sounds like Parian and Macfinn. You get a location from him?" I asked.

"I did, but something doesn't sit right with me. It's almost too easy."

"Fourteen minutes left. Doesn't sound all that easy to me."

"It's something else… something we're missing," Revel said as we reached the rest of the group again.

"Wait… didn't they say there were two of them?" I asked, before thinking about what that meant. Then, we both looked at each other.

"Taylor!" I said, luckily hidden behind Revel's simultaneous exclamation of "Skitter!"


	12. Chapter 10

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 10**

"So what was it like, being a supervillain?" Cuff asked.

I was about to respond to her question, when she did so herself.

"Is it true that you, like, actually stole candy from a baby?"

"What? No, of course not. Life is not a comic book you know."

"Well, you say that, but you robbed a bank right? So you stole from people's bank accounts. So what if a baby had a bank account there? And then the baby was going to use that money to buy candy? So basically, by robbing that bank, you stole candy from a baby," she replied.

I had to admit, I wasn't entirely sure how to even start arguing against hypothetical, it was just incorrect in so many places.

Then again, this was the girl that had almost been convinced she was a metal construct by Tattletale.

"Well, you work for the government right? And you get paid with government money, which is gathered by taxation. Even babies have to pay tax, so whenever you get a paycheck, you're taking a tiny piece of candy away from a baby."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" she said, stubbornly folding her arms.

"Hey, you started with the shitty arguments."

I dropped the line of conversation, and sank back into the hospital bed, trying not to think about the pain my broken ribs were giving me now that the adrenaline had worn off.

I thought back to the last time I'd been in a hospital bed like this, slightly more than a week ago. Back in Brockton Bay, or at least someplace very close to it.

I still wasn't sure whether what I'd done had been stupid or brave, and whether it had been any sort of skill on my part, or pure luck that had allowed me to survive. It was probably the latter.

A few hours ago, I'd gotten beaten up by a shitty werewolf, what had I been thinking, going up against Leviathan on my own?

Oh, right, I'd been thinking that my dad could've been in that shelter. And now, Danny was dead, while mister Gladly had somehow managed to survive.

With my eyes closed, without me controlling them, I felt my bugs fall back into their natural routines. I felt the ants respond to chemical trails that led them to food, felt patterns that weren't quite like the flowers I knew, heard strange tones that I knew should have been voices, felt the air move around flies that were dodging slaps from people. It was weird, withdrawing into their world like that, figuring out what was going on by using a thousand different senses from a thousand different species, each completely different from a human's. I felt a fly land on a glazed donut, that didn't taste anything like what I had been expecting from a donut, but was still delicious to the tiny little body eating it. I felt a butterfly land on someone's hat, thinking it was food because of the pattern of strange colours. I focussed on it, trying to figure out what made it choose to go there, what stimuli had motivated it, but as I paid more attention to it, it's senses became sharp and concrete in my mind, and I started to get a headache from the abnormal information feeding into my brain.

"You allright?" Cuff asked, a caring smile on her face. She must've noticed something.

"Yeah, just a headache. My powers," I replied.

"I thought only Thinkers got those?" she asked.

"Don't know about that. I mean, I know Tattletale used to get these massive migraines, but I'm not quite sure how that works. I just get headaches trying to actually see through my bugs. They have weird eyes that don't work how you'd expect them to."

"Oh, that's gotta be annoying. Do you, like, see ultraviolet and infrared? I saw a documentary about flowers once, and they said there were lots of weird colour patterns on them we couldn't see."

"Maybe, that might be part of it, my brain not knowing how to see those colours, but I think it's the faceted eyes too, maybe. It's been getting better. I mean, when I just triggered, I spend a few days in the mental ward because I couldn't shut them out, and just felt things crawling everywhere."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?" Cuff asked, nicely.

"Not really. I'm… trying to put that part of my life behind me. I mean, I miss my friends, a lot, but I don't miss the whole villain thing. Hurting people and making them fear you."

Cuff just nodded, unsure of how to reply.

"So, what's being a hero like?" I asked.

"Dunno really. Not what you'd think. Not what they make it look like on tv," she replied.

"In what way?"

"Mostly, it's boring. Patrols, learning regulations, safety stuff, meetings on possible new supervillains in town," she said, giving me a silly wink.

"So, do you regret joining then?"

"Not really. I mean, it's not like I ever wanted to be a hero, so there's not really anything to be disappointed in. I guess."

"What do you mean? Were you arrested or something?"

"Not really. I mean, it's complicated. It was… let's just say you're not the only person who lost a lot to the Endbringers. I… I wanted to fight them, wanted revenge, but the thing is, I'm not much of a fighter. I spend half of my few fights trying to bring myself to do something, and then by the time I build up the courage it's already over. So, I guess I don't mind not having to do a lot of that stuff, instead just training for stuff that's probably never going to happen."

"Stuff that's not going to happen?"

"I mean, like, we all know the Endbringers, how they're probably going to kill everyone. How us parahumans are probably the only thing that can stand up to them. I think, maybe, that that's why there's parahumans, you know? The planet defending itself from these all-destroying invaders by giving us powers, and us then abusing them. So, if we have to fight Endbringers, why are they teaching us hand-to-hand combat? I mean, do they expect me to perform a Tombstone on the Simmurgh or something?"

I thought about it for a second. From what Harry had told me, and for some strange reason I believed him, parahumans and Endbringers were probably related. Parahumans, however, most definitely weren't some sort of natural defence mechanism. There was very little natural about the thing I had seen, chained and locked up in Harry's mind.

"You learned how to do the Tombstone?" I asked her.

"If only. Lieutenant Murphy, the woman giving the classes? She's a real hard-ass in class. Especially to me and Grace. Grace likes it, learning all that stuff, but I think Murph's going hard on my cause of my Brute stuff."

"I thought you were a metallokinetic?" I asked her.

"Well, yeah, but I got this minor Brute thing going on too. Murphy says it means I have amazing joints, something about my ligaments being unnaturally sturdy, stuff like that. Nothing that would protect me from a bullet, but it's enough to make sure I never twist my ankles or anything like that."

"Sounds pretty sweet. I mean, I just got my bugs, and that's it."

"Yeah, but you've never had to do a hundred push-ups because of that. Trust me, it gets really boring after the first fifty or so."

"I guess, but it's not like villains don't have hand-to-hand classes. Brian pounded me hard," I said, before realizing what words just left my mouth.

"Really?"

"No… he saw me as more of a sister… all the physical contact was fun though, strong sweaty guys grappling with you."

"Tell me about it, you should see Tecton out of his armour. Trust me; he's a looker, especially for a Tinker."

"Like, stupid muscles? Or just well-toned?"

***

I had to admit, talking to Cuff, to Ava, like that had been fun. Sure, I had Lisa, but whenever I talked to Lisa, it always seemed like she was in charge, explaining stuff to me, instructing me in the ways of supervillainy. Maybe it was unfair to do that, Lisa was a good friend, a great one, but she herself had admitted her powers messed with her brain a bit, making her functionally asexual. It was probably worse now that she was a ghost, although I'd have to figure out exactly who this Bob person was she'd been talking to.

Rachel had been nice too, but she was very, well, special. Not in the bad way, but in the descriptive way. The one time I'd talked boys with her, she'd advised me to go up to Brian and just ask him to have sex with him, although she'd somehow said so in an even cruder way.

With Ava, I'd just had a half-hour conversation on superhero butts, without any political bullshit around it. It had been fun, which led to me laughing, which led to my ribs hurting, which led to me realizing that morphine was amazing.

What I'd also noticed was that, when my mind was fucked up on opioids, the data from my bugs didn't hurt as much. I dimly remembered something like that happening before, after one of Bakuda's bombs had fried my nervous system, I think. It was all a bit fuzzy, what with the damage to my nervous system.

I laid back in my bed, and started observing the building, vaguely seeing shapes move around.

I looked at the lobby, spotting people walking back and forth. In the building next to it was the merchandising store, selling t-shirts, mugs, posters, and a whole lot of Myrrdin memorabilia.

Say what you want about the way he acts, it gets people buying stuff, and that's at least part of what the PRT wants. There were fake wizard robes, with a smaller Wanton-based set as well. They sold pentacle-hangers, wizard staffs, and a little bracelet with tiny Protectorate shields on it, mimicking the one Harry had on his left hand.

Then there were the action figures. I could make out Revel with her lantern, Myrddin with his big robe and staff, a larger new figurine of Campanile, and what I was quite sure was a Tecton with removable power-armour, dressed in some sort of spandex-like undersuit. The tiny plastic butt was well-defined, although that could have just been marketing.

In another room, one that was well-secured and only contained two flies total, I could sense an interrogation. The hexenwolf, the one Harry had caught in his banishment spell, was sitting there, chained up, being interviewed by someone that must have been the director, and Tattletale's floating drone. Nearby, I felt the belt he had been using in a containment room. Apparently, it was black magic, corrupting the mind of the user. By the vitriolic behaviour of the captured criminal, I could believe that.

I started putting flies on the back of everyone's heads, trying to get a sense of how everything worked in the offices. Someone would walk in, talk to the people at the reception, and then either take a seat in the lobby, waiting for their appointment, or walk right on through the building, usually with an escort, but not always.

The people walking around without an escort usually had a lanyard with a card attached to it, showing it to people at various security checkpoints, often with an additional piece of ID. From the way the checkpoints were set up, the medical bay was quite deep into the building, covered by a lot of security. It made sense, this was probably both where they treated villains and their own, meaning they needed it secure to protect from escapes, as well as to defend the people lying here.

One of the people I'd been following, a professional-looking woman with a toned physique, was making her way deeper into the building, in the direction of the medical bay. I wouldn't have thought anything off it, but every now and then she stood still, sniffing the air or something like that, I wasn't quite sure. Then, she'd take a turn again, and start sniffing at the next corner.

"Cuff, there's someone acting weird, I'm not sure why, but I don't trust it."

"What do you mean?" she asked

"It's this woman; she keeps smelling the air, coming closer."

"You think it's one of them?" she asked, and I could hear the fear in her voice. It'd been true, she wasn't much of a fighter.

"Probably," I replied as I started to gather bugs in the walls and vents nearby, preparing for battle.

If this was a rematch, I couldn't let her get closer to me.

I looked at the checkpoint closest to me, with two troopers standing next to a door somewhere, and started using my bugs to write something on the floor in front of them.

 _"_ _Suspicious person"_ was the text I wrote, with an arrow pointing towards the strange woman.

They said something to each other, called something in over the radio, and followed the arrows, leading them to the woman.

They talked to her, probably asking for ID and being bureaucratic obstructionists. She responded by yelling at them angrily, in a way that reminded me of the man sitting in an interrogation room nearby. I couldn't exactly understand what they were saying, but she was angry, I knew that.

Something happened, one of the men said something that triggered her, and she reached for something at her side.

I could only barely make out the belt hidden below her suit jacket, when she turned into a large, sturdy wolf, clawing at the two troopers.

"She's one of them!" I yelled, and I send forth my bugs.

The troopers had almost immediately recovered, and started firing at the wolf, which responded by dashing through them, turning a corner with incredibly agility, only to crash headfirst into a swarm of biting, stinging insects.

The wolf howled out in pain, and Ava winced, holding herself to a wall. Luckily, she was having a hard time figuring out which room we were in. The hospital smell probably didn't help, especially with her enhanced nose.

Around the building, I noticed people running towards our position, ready to react to the infiltrator, but they were too late, only halfway there when the wolf smashed through the door of the room I was in.

From my position, sitting up in the bed, I could clearly see her murderous eyes, seeping fluids both clear and red from the bugs biting and stinging at it. Blood seeped from her wounds, but she wasn't down yet. Maybe she was mentally too far gone to feel the pain, maybe she just didn't care.

"I don't get it. What're you trying to accomplish here? Your buddy already got arrested. The jig is up," I taunted.

She snarled in anger, unable to make human sounds through her inhuman jaw. I could easily figure out what it meant though. She was going to try and kill me. This was just what I wanted. Before she could pounce on me, Ava smashed a heavy piece of medical equipment into her. She was launched across the room into another expensive looking machine I didn't recognize.

I heard a loud snap, and what I thought was the sound of her bones cracking, but it apparently hadn't been enough. The beast, not yet defeated, turned towards Cuff, snarling at her, blood and spit being launched through the air.

Ava screamed, and curled up in a ball in the corner. I couldn't expect more back-up from her, she was too afraid for that.

Having scared the girl, the wolf turned towards me, its beastly jaw grinning in a way that was far too human for something of its shape. I looked over her, seeing the places where my bugs had removed the fur and torn into the flesh, and where quickly growing boils covered the skin. One of her front paws was broken, the bone visibly piercing the skin, but it ignored the wound completely.

Sure, she wasn't as big as Rachel's dogs had been, but she was actually coming for me.

My bugs, covering almost its entire body in a desparate attempt to stop it, told me it was going to move before my eyes could see it. Almost instinctively, I rolled away from her just as she pounced, and while was soaring through the air, I managed to clear the hospital bed, landing on the ground with a painful thud.

The hexenwolf, having misjudged its leap, flew over my head, crashing into another piece of medical equipment, something big and electronic.

It shook its head, and looked at me again with that impossible smile, happy, even though it's face had been torn apart by my minions. Slowly, she got ready to pounce, and go for the kill. This time, however, I wouldn't be able to dodge. Time seemed to slow down as I looked at my impending death, desperately trying to find a way out.

My eyes flitter around the room, looking for a solution but not finding one. People were running towards us, but they wouldn't be there in time. There weren't any weapons around either. My combat knife, extendable baton and pepperspray were safely locked away in my utility compartment, which was in a storage locker somewhere.

The room itself didn't give me any options either. The bed had been secured to the ground, and the furniture was solidly built into the walls. The only thing I could think of was the piece of electronics the wolf was still standing in.

I could see the exposed wires, could see that they were probably charged, I just had to find a way to get them to touch each other, or rather, to both touch the hexenwolf.

Maybe I could create some sort of replacement wire out of bugs? Line them up and use them as a conductor?

The beast smiled, blood and drool seeping past its lips, onto some of the exposed wires, creating a small spark.

If only that spark somehow managed to make its way to the beast, I thought. I tried with some bugs, but they electricity stopped me from properly controlling them.

For the second time, I felt the beast shift ever so slightly, getting ready to pounce, and I knew that this time, I was done for.

If only those wires had fallen just a little differently.

Suddenly, the small spark grew into a bigger one, connecting two of the wires. Then, out of nowhere, the electrical spark started lashing out, connecting to each and every one of the bugs swarming the hexenwolf, frying them, and the beast with it, encased in some sort of electrical webbing.

Half a second later, the arc of electricity shifted to a wire in the wall, arcing through it, as well as connecting to the rest of the machinery and the electrical lighting, each and every bit of electrical energy returning to the wolf, making it spasm uncontrollably, and give off the smell of burning fur.

Then, Ava, having gathered her courage again now that the beast was stunned, dashed forward, punching with one of her massive metallic gauntlets, which she had formed into a metal spike.

The beast, its muscles spasming, was unable to dodge, and Ava's hit went straight through its jaw, into its skull, splattering gore everywhere as the electricity subsided, leaving us in a completely dark room.

Then, it seemed like time started moving at its normal rate again. The two troopers I'd asked for help before dashed through the door, one of them trying to activate a flashlight, with the other having given up on his. At the same time, Cuff started screaming, having realized what she had just done, and the fire alarm noticed the smoke from the half-burning wolf, and decided to quench us in some stale water.

The guard without the flashlight ran for Ava, trying to calm down, while the other was still struggling with his flashlight.

Half a minute later, I saw a light appear, and my bugs told me it was Tecton, using a headlight build into his armour. As he entered the room, I started to see the mess we'd made in our short fight. The machinery, the bugs, and whatever had happened with the electricity arcing around.

Part of me thought I was dealing with a mysterious stranger acting as a guardian angel again, but something told me that that wasn't what was going on. There was something else there, and I was pretty sure I was responsible.

As Tecton approached and saw me lying on the ground, I nodded in Ava's direction. Tecton got the hint, and started comforting her, while one of the troopers, now able to see something, picked me up from the ground.

"Oww, ribs…" I said, and he shifted slightly getting me out of the room. Behind me, Tecton followed, holding a panicked Ava, and behind the two of them I could feel the wolf slowly start changing, part of the wolf-body sloughing off it into a strange liquid, leaving behind the woman, her head almost entirely destroyed by Ava's enhanced strike.

Around me, I could hear the troopers and other personnel chattering, making plans to secure the building, that sort of thing. The trooper holding me put me on a movable stretcher. As he did so, I sat up, but he pushed me down and insisted I stay there. Not feeling all that amazing, I was all right with that, and tried to relax through the hubbub around me.

From what I could gather, whatever had happened had destroyed most electronics in the building, leaving behind only Tecton's tinkertech tools. At first, I thought I'd somehow caused a power outage, but apparently stuff with batteries wasn't working anymore either. Some of them started arguing, something about Myrddin and an involuntary Shaker effect, but I was honestly too tired to follow the conversation. I'd been drifting away before we'd been interrupted, and the adrenaline wasn't enough to counter the wave of exhaustion coming over me.


	13. Chapter 11

Of Wasps and Wizards, Part 11

"They're not answering," Campanile reported.

"Then there's nothing we can do. Hell's bells, it may have already happened," I answered.

"Less worrying, more stopping these Werewolves," Revel commanded.

"Hexenwolves, I mean, it's a rather important distinction," I replied, but Revel was already flying away.

"Wait, I thought we were worrying about a Loup-Garou?" Campanile joked.

As I looked around, I saw that Tera was already leaping after Revel, followed by a running Alpha squad. Or maybe it was Aleph squad, that stuff was terribly inconsistent.

"You coming with us?" Campanile asked the teenage girl that was currently climbing on top of the malformed, animated wreck of what looked like a cement truck.

"Uh-huh," she replied, nodding.

Going by what I remembered from the classes on parahuman psychology that the PRT had provided, she probably wouldn't be very talkative for a while, while she was internalizing recent events.

She'd recently gained powers, abilities that made her far stronger than anything she'd ever come into contact with before. For the past few weeks, she'd been working under the presumption that she was basically invincible, even more so than the average teenager. Just now, she'd realized that she wasn't, and that there were a lot of people more powerful than her. For now, her mind was far too busy trying to figure out her place in the world to actually talk to anyone about it.

Just as I was thinking about the girl, Campanile grabbed me by the back of my robe's collar, lifting me up into the air.

"The fuck! Why are you lifting me like this? I'm not a cat!" I yelled out.

"I wish. Cats hold still when you grab them like this. Anyway, let's get going, last one there is a shitty wizard!" he replied, and he started running, the girl following behind us.

Eventually, while we made our way through Marcone's now completely torn up private golf course, courtesy of a few heavy trucks driving around, I saw the site of the battle. Or rather, the hostage situation.

The Hexenwolves, having quickly taken stock of the situation, had come to the obvious conclusion.

They wouldn't be winning this fight. In fact, they didn't even stand half a chance. They'd been relying on superior numbers, the element of surprise, and the utmost disregard for the unwritten rules in order to bring them this far. Right now, they had none of those at their side.

Both of them were in human form, wearing urban conflict gear. High quality stuff that wasn't exactly available to civilians, but it wasn't tinkertech either. Both of them had a hostage in their arms, a pistol to their heads. One of them was holding an unconscious Dovetail, while the other had a middle-aged man, built like a barn. Tera's fiancé, the Loup Garou. He didn't look as French as I'd expected, which made sense, because his name was MacFinn, not MaqueFinnes or anything like that.

They were surrounded on all sides. Or rather, most sides. Sure, there were PRT troopers to the left and to the right of them, and Revel was looking at them from the front, meaning Tera was probably hidden behind them somewhere. But that left both the earth and the sky completely open, in addition to any extradimensional approaches. Had they the skills, they could simply pop into the Nevernever through a portal to escape.

Of course, such a move would quickly be followed by them being eaten by something horrible, but that was kind of beside the point.

"Just listen, okay. We analysed the belt, there's a mentally degenerative effect on it, which you might have noticed. Turn yourselves in, and we'll be able to get you the help you need." Revel said.

"You? Help us? Don't you get it? That's the entire problem! Everyone always relying on you incompetent idiots! Do you know how many people get away because you fuck up and don't want to go in?"

"So you're putting hits out on teenagers. Sounds like a great plan!" I said from my position, dangling from Campanile's hand.

I used my staff, trying to use a trick I'd been practicing for a while now. I created an almost invisible opening to one of my pocket dimensions. In this case, one of the pocket dimensions without gravity. Then, I focussed my mind, trying to use one of the little bits of earth magic I knew

 _"Gravitus"_ I mumbled, using my magic to extend the gravity from my pocket dimension into the real world. As the spell completed, I felt the weight lift off of my neck, and when Campanile let loose, I floated in the sky.

It wasn't flying, not yet at least, I was still working on that. It was, however, a pretty neat way to float around in one place, looking all impressive. Luckily, there weren't any cameras around, or Image would start forcing me to carry around a broomstick as well.

"Shut up! Don't you guys know anything? You can't just let people go because they have superpowers, that's basically the definition of corruption!" the man yelled at me.

"Funny, I thought that was using your connections to hide your secret killing squad. But hey, you're the expert here."

"Myrddin, we're in a difficult hostage situation here. Could you maybe shut up?" Revel asked.

"Aye-aye cap'n."

"As I was saying, put down the hostages, and we'll get you the help you need," Revel said to the two villains.

"I've got a better idea. How about you guys leave, and we'll let MacFinn here get rid of the biggest scumbag the city's ever known. You won't have to lift a finger," the man replied.

Revel's hand went to her chin, thinking about the statement. She was actually thinking about it, not just dismissing it out of hand like the ridiculous plan it was.

"Boss, you can't seriously be thinking about this…" Campanile said.

"Fine, you release your other hostages, and we have a deal," Revel said, eliciting gasp of surprise from some of the troopers.

"I knew you could listen to reason," The Hexenwolf said. "Harris, drop her and come over here."

The other Hexenwolf, a rather skinny ginger man (no, they're not soulless, even though you'd think they were from looking at them,) hesitated for a few seconds, before doing as his boss said, and dropping an unconscious Dovetail to the floor, and slowly walking over, gun still in his hands.

"So, what now boss?" the guy mumbled.

"We wait, and we run like hell. Marcone will keep him busy," the boss said.

"Wait, who exactly will Marcone keep busy?" I asked.

"MacFinn here, you fucking idiot," the man replied, pointing at his gagged hostage with his free hand.

"Oh really? Because I don't see anyone there," I replied, quickly sweeping out my staff, pointing it at the poor, ridiculously rich, man that was about to be transformed into a tremendously powerful monstrosity.

The Manton effect is this thing with parahuman abilities that makes them even weirder than you'd expect. There's lots of stuff to it, but it tends to have to do with living stuff, and weird limitation regarding clothes and that kind of thing. It's a whole area of research that I'm not all that interested in. What I am interested in, is what it means for my powers.

I could suck things into and out of pocket dimensions, and do a whole lot of weird shit with them. The problem was, I only had one pocket dimension that was really optimized for carrying people. The negative side of it was that I could only hold one person in it. The positive part of it is that my little brainbuddy takes that very literally, and will carry that specific person (plus clothes, somehow. Don't ask me why,) into the dimension.

In this case, that person was MacFinn, and not the man holding him.

The moment I gave them my cue, the rest of the team sprang into action. Revel launched an orb of force into the Hexenwolf leader, campanile used his gravity aura to make things difficult for his sidekick, Shuffle created a canyon between them and Dovetail, and I was pretty sure I saw Tera running for the prone body of Parian, who had, unlike MacFinn, been drugged, since it was probably impossible to stop her from using her powers to break free if she hadn't been. Can't really bind someone whose whole power revolves around manipulating stuff like string and rope.

To complete the picture, one of the nearby vans started spraying a ridiculous amount of containment foam, covering the half-battered Hexenwolves in sticky goo. And I don't care what people say, I'll always keep thinking that that's a funny way of saying it. If they didn't want me to laugh they shouldn't have made that stuff white.

"I have to admit… that went easier than I expected," Campanile said.

From that sentence alone, you could see that Campanile was a total rookie. Sure, I hadn't been in the game as long as some of the more experienced people, but even I knew that no, you did not give the universe a chance like that.

Within seconds of Campanile saying it, the moon rose, shining through a treeline at the border of Marcone's ridiculously large estate.

For just a second, I thought we'd be okay. Sure, the moon was there, but MacFinn was safely hidden in a pocket dimension, in a place where the sun never shone, nor the moon.

Then, my usual luck asserted itself, and I felt a surge of power move through me, or rather, my parahuman ability.

I really should've known better.

The curse of the Loup-Garou is no simple enchantment. Most magic fades away with sunrise, a time of renewal. Even powerful spells need to be maintained, or they're eroded over time. A major curse like the one on MacFinn, one that has lasted for hundreds of years? That needs a ridiculous amount of power, and some sort of anchor. Or in this case, two anchors, that create the curse when coming into contact with each other.

One of those being MacFinn's bloodline, the other being the moon itself.

Like I said, major mojo.

And if a big old containment circle couldn't stop the cursee from transforming, my little pocket dimension wouldn't work either.

By placing myself between the two halves of the curse, all I'd done was force it to go through me. And, powerfull as I might be, I wasn't strong enough to handle all of that energy.

My only saving grace was that I'd used my staff as a focus.

I flinched, as it quickly heated up, before exploding into red-hot cinders. I'd spend a whole lot of time creating a tool that would work with both my magic, and my parahuman ability, and it wouldn't be easy to create a new one.

As my staff was utterly destroyed, and my parahuman ability on the fritz, I was very happy I'd bound my inner demon. Or rather, space parasite. Almost the same thing really. I felt it reeling, trying to lash out at me for making it do too much. Were I someone else, I'd have a pounding headache right now, but the binding meant that I'd just be unable to use that side of my abilities for a while.

Then, just when I realized that that meant I wouldn't have access to my zero-g dimension anymore, I dropped to the floor like Wile E. Coyote.

Then, I noticed the Loup-Garou clawing its way back into our dimension through a rift in spacetime. Yeah, that wasn't going to be a problem.

Before it had fully torn its way through, the former cement-mixer crashed into it, pushing it back, and tearing the world a new one in the process.

It didn't take, and the beast threw the cement-mixer to the side before fully stepping into our dimension.

"Campanile, grab the hostages. Alpha squad, get out of here, Shuffle, Beta and Charlie, limit its movements," Revel called out, putting on her command hat.

I switched my blasting rod from my left hand to my right, and got ready for a fight, using just my magic.

It probably wouldn't work, but we needed to do something to stop this thing from rampaging.

From behind me, I felt three more metal monstrosities run past me. Felt, because they stomped the ground while dashing forwards to a ridiculous degree.

As the metal minions tore into it, the beast roared out in pain, even though its wounds healed almost immediately.

" _Forzare_ " I yelled out, bashing the beast in the head with a bolt of pure force, twisting its neck backwards in a way that didn't look healthy.

Of course, half a second later, the neck twisted back, and the beast was completely healed again, and looking straight at me.

It roared, and dashed straight at me, completely ignoring the metal beasts trying to tear at it.

In the corner of my eyes, I saw one of the vans move into position, and lay out a spray of containment foam, making use of the wolves' straightforward path to lead it.

The foam landed on the beast, and started expanding, covering the beast in a thick layer of white goo.

Again, it's just not getting old.

Then, just as the beast was about to reach me, Shuffle used his ability, and a large chunk of earth and boulders appeared between me and the beast.

I wasn't sure what happened next, because it was out of my view, but I saw some orbs flying from Revel's lantern, and heard some bones crunching, so I could make an educated guess.

Beside me, I suddenly saw the girl again, this time standing on a smaller critter.

"He's just gonna keep healing," the girl said, speaking from experience.

"So, we have to find some way to contain him," I replied.

"How? Your banishment didn't work, and he's gonna tear through the foam."

"A magic circle, one he can't cross. Problem is, we'd need to trap him, and we don't really have the time to set up anything like that."

"So… we're fucked?"

"Basically. It's either that or strike with inherited silver, that's its only weakness," I said.

"You mean, he'll die?"

"Yes, he'll die."

"That's not… it's not his fault, it's a curse…" she said.

"I know, but it's either that, or let him run around killing people, and something tells me he'd rather die," I said.

The girl looked dejected, completely out of ideas. Behind me, back in the arena Shuffle had created with his powers, I could hear the sound of metal being torn apart, and Revel's orbs of force crushing supernatural beast bones. I could only hope that Campanile had been able to get the hostages out of there, I wasn't really in any condition to do anything right now, what with half my abilities being on the fritz.

"So, the circle's gotta be magic right?" the girl asked.

"Pretty much, yeah. Anyone can make it, but without something to power it, it's just a geometric shape on the floor. I'd need to empower it first."

"So, if someone else made the circle-"

"Then I can empower that instead," I finished her sentence.

"I uhmmm. I don't I can though, I mean, he'll probably just tear it apart if I get my minions to do something," she said.

"Let's see. Campanile can't go into melee against this guy, Revel's blasts won't be too useful either, Shuffle is too imprecise… Say, Parian's a telekinetic isn't she?

"Don't know, Tera said she knew magic."

"She does both. I think. Anyway, I don't have any better ideas, so let's see if we can find her," I said, hopping on behind the car-destroying hooligan.

Then, about five seconds after we started jumping around, I was reminded of the fight going on by a PRT van flying through the air, landing right in front of us.

Luckily, it seemed like the trooper had managed to get out of it before the Loup-Garou had reached them. At least I couldn't see any body parts.

There was blood, but that could've been werewolf blood. At least I hoped it was werewolf blood.

Without a pause, the girl jumped down, sending me forward on the minion she'd been riding. She walked towards the van, and gave me a good view of just what exactly she'd done to the Blue Beetle.

Panels, axles and engines twisted around on themselves, the metal of the van creaking with a horrible noise.

The Loup-Garou, recognizing the sound, jumped up, and I saw it dash towards the girl. It was covered in a mixture of blood and foam, but completely unbothered by it.

And in about three seconds, It would rip out the throat of the girl that was helping me find Parian.

I have this old-fashioned thing about women. I'm kind of a chivalrous guy. Sure, you might think me old-fashioned, what with people like Alexandria and Revel constantly in the limelight, but it's just me.

And if there's anything I hate more than I hate people who go after women, It's people who go after little girls, even if the girl in question managed to completely destroy my car for no reason at all."

I gathered my will, drawing in energy from my surroundings, and channelled it through my blasting rod, a device specialized in helping me control fire magic.

Not that I needed any control right now, I just needed power, a lot of power.

" _Pyrofuego"_ I yelled, unleashing a devastatingly large fireball from the tip of my blasting rod. It was almost like a spear, only larger, and the flame was blue and white, rather than the average red-yellowish fire. Heh, white-ish stuff coming from my rod, almost as good as containment foam.

The column of flame flew through the air, and smashed straight into the Loup-Garou, sending it flying, and setting it on fire. When it landed, I could see its fur burn in a bright blaze, the regenerating hairs only serving to further fuel the fire. It wouldn't last, almost nothing would last against this thing, but it would buy the girl whose cape name I still didn't know some time.

As my steed turned a corner, it slowed down, slowly falling outside of her control, its movements becoming simpler. I jumped off, and ran in the direction in which I thought Parian had been. Shuffle's power was useful in restructuring the battlefield, but it made it rather difficult to keep your bearings in a place like this. The only fixtures were the moon, and Revel's position in the sky, throwing balls of hurt at the Loup-Garou. From the way she was spacing them out though, it seemed like she was running low on her reserves of energy.

After a minute or two of searching for Parian, I suddenly decided to stop being an idiot. Instead of running through the broken, hilly terrain like a madman, I climbed up on a rock, and looked around for Campanile, who had been in charge of the hostages.

Of course, that had been at the beginning of the chaotic fight. Right now, I saw him fighting the Loup-Garou, using the barely recognizeable cement-mixer as a bludgeon in order to give him extra range.

All things considered, close quarters combat is dangerous, especially for brutes. You'd think the opposite was true, and it is, but that wasn't the point I was trying to make.

The point is, a brute is supposed to get in there, and fight the enemy with overwhelming force and resilience.

Against most people, that means you overpower them instantly, doesn't matter if you're a twenty-feet tall Campanile or a sky-scraper lifting Alexandria. Doesn't matter if you're twenty time as strong, or a hundred. You're not going to lose that fight. Against another brute though, you tend to be completely at the mercy of your respective powers. If your enemy happens to be stronger by an order of magnitude, you're completely fucked, no doubts about it.

In this case, it seemed like the Loup-Garou was the one that was having intercourse, thanks to Campanile's ridiculous reach. Whenever the Loup-Garou attacked, he simply took a large step back, attacking again the moment it stopped moving.

Problem was, strength and reach weren't the only factors in such a fight. Right here, it was resilience, stamina and regeneration that would prove conclusive.

Sure, Campanile could keep the beast at bay for a couple of minutes, but he was still a person, and would quickly tire, while the Loup-Garou wouldn't.

"He is going to kill them," a voice said.

I turned, and was that it was Tera West, standing right next to me. I hadn't heard her approach, hadn't even heard her breathe before she'd said something.

While my eyes were busy inspecting her rather naked body for possible wounds, (I promise I only looked as much as was strictly necessary to make sure she was okay) she started speaking again.

"He was always worried this would happen. That he wouldn't be able to stop himself. The beast, it is everything he is not. Angry, vengeful and out of control."

"Vengeful… that's why he went after the girl," I said.

"A stupid child playing stupid games. She heard rumours about things being afoot at his manor during the full moon, and she wanted to explore, like you humans are wont to. She found him, transformed but sealed in his circle, and she panicked, freeing him in her foolishness. She managed to fight him off until moonset, but only barely. When he returned to her senses, he forgave her, thanked her for making sure he didn't hurt anyone, while all I wanted to do was to rip her throat out.

"You humans, most of you are horrible, worse than the animals whose superiors you claim to be. Then, there are people like my beloved, who are better than I could ever be."

"And now, he's stuck like this, fighting us," I said.

"You should know, wizard, that I am helping you because he would not want to harm anyone. If you harm him, I will have my revenge," she said, calm and collected as if she hadn't just threatened to rip our collective oesophagi out. I was pretty sure that, if I had an ex-wife, I would've made some kind of twisted comparison here.

"Well, I'm trying to stop that from happening, but I'll need Parian to do that. Do you know where she is?" I asked.

"Lady Sabah? Yes, the giant carried her away before he went to fight," she responded, before shifting to a wolf again.

I was about to hurry after her, when I heard a blood-curdling scream in the distance. I looked again, and saw that what I'd feared had happened. Campanile had gotten tired, and made a mistake, and now the Loup-Garou was wrapped around one of his arms, biting down.

There was little I could do, it was out of range for an easy hit, and I'd probably hit Campanile as well if I threw something at it.

Revel, however, was still soaring above the battlefield, periodically throwing around balls of force.

I looked at my right hand, and the ring I was wearing on it. The ring was made out of three rings of an Iridium/Rhodium alloy, created by a tinker to hold large amounts of energy. The alloy had been designed for some sort of interdimensional tinker-tech bullshit, but that property had carried over for magical work, and I'd used my Protectorate contacts to get a fair amount of it.

The design was based on an earlier device I'd created, a small ring that would save up a little bit of energy each time I swung my arm around, and release that all at once. This one, however, got its kinetic force from a little doohickey Tecton had made for me after I'd explained the principle, and it was a lot more powerful than my earlier work.

I aimed it at the point of light in the sky that was Revel's lantern, gathered my will, and released the energy, pounding an enormous blast of force straight into her weapon.

Revel, used to my hijinks by now, didn't even act surprised when her weapon was suddenly overcharged with energy again. Instead, she simply looked at me, spotting the wolf right next to me, and gave me a nod while she flew towards Campanile and the beast, unleashing a vast array of glowing orbs in the process of flying there.

"Let's get going," I said, and Tera started running, following her nose, while Campanile was screaming in the background.

There was nothing I could do, I told myself. I wouldn't be able to reach him in time, and my time was better spent creating a containment plan.

I wasn't sure how long I spent rushing after Tera in the near darkness, my path lit only by the faint glow of my amulet, the one I'd inherited from my mother, and which was now available in tacky tourist stores all across the city.

It was also, of course, made out of silver. Inherited silver. The one weakness that a Loup-Garou had.

Sometimes I was such a fucking idiot.

Eventually, we came upon an impromptu medical outpost, containing the hostages, as well as an unconscious Shuffle and three bleeding troopers, and one guy playing medic.

"Where's Parian?" I asked, and the sole capable PRT trooper left pointed at one of the bundles lying on the floor.

As I came closer, I recognized Parian's Middle Eastern features. She was sleeping, probably still out from the drugs the Hexenwolves used on her.

I then did what all good wizards did in such a situation. I grabbed a little vial of smelling salts from my utility pouch, and held it in front of her nose, because mind-affecting magic is a no-no. Really I'm serious, it's against the laws of magic because it tends to twist the mind of the victim, their subconscious fighting against the changes you made. That was why I couldn't help people with the binding. The parasites interact with brains, and therefore the mind. The whole binding was based upon subtle differences between the brain, as in the chemical machine in your head, and your metaphysical mind.

Using some sort of love spell on someone, for example, would lead to them hating and loving someone at the same time, eventually ending in someone's psyche tearing itself apart, probably.

In this case, well, maybe her subconscious would tell her she was still sleepy or something. But hey, it's a slippery slope, and the laws of magic mean that you'll be executed by the council the moment you set a single step over that line.

So I just used the natural equivalent, found in a small vial with stinky gasses, a quick slap to the face, and a thermos of cold water applied directly to the face.

She woke up, and was obviously confused as to the situation, and wondering why her shirt was wet.

So a little bit of water had slipped from her face to her shirt, sue me, the layers of clothes she was wearing meant I couldn't see anything anyways.

"What… where… what happened?" she asked, obviously still tired.

"Long story short? You got kidnapped by transforming FBI agents, and now there's a rampaging Loup-Garou running around slaughtering its way through my teammates. I need you to grab some string and make a circle around it, so that we can empower it and keep it sealed."

Parian looked at me, her mouth gaping open, before nodding, standing up, and removing a long string from her skirt with her power. "Will this do? I mean, I've never tried it before, but I think the principle is sound. You're the wizard here anyway," she said, her voice not entirely confident, but not trembling too much either.

"I think it will, or at least, I can't figure out a reason why it wouldn't, so let's go!" I said to both the wet and tired Parian and the naked wolf. Although, now that I thought about it, most wolves are naked.

We made our way towards the fighting sounds, while I explained my circle plan. In the distance, the sounds of Revel's orbs were joined by grenades and gunfire. Apparently, Marcone's men had gotten involved.

As we reached the fight, a bloody scene was unfolding.

Most obvious was Campanile's arm, lying on the ground, twenty feet long and several across, it was mauled all over by the Loup-Garou. Somehow, it had gotten lopped off in the fight, and wasn't returning to normal size.

The rest of his body, however, was normal sized, -still big mind you, but normal for Campanile-, lying on the ground nearby with a PRT trooper working on the bloody stump.

Behind that, I saw smoke grenades, concussive grenades, incendiary grenades, and a couple of other things flying to the air, as well as a whole lot of gunfire coming from Marcone's mansion.

In the distance, I could see Snaptrap's power, flinging grenades forward. I idly wondered if Revel was still angry at him for failing to live up to his self-imposed expectations. Probably. Revel could be a hard-ass and Snaptrap was kind of a dick.

The Loup-Garou, driven towards the mansion by Revel's attacks, was busy smashing its way through walls, destroying the structural integrity of the building and munching on cheap henchmen.

"Hey, Lard-ass!" I yelled, before following up with a " _Fuego!"_ and a fireball.

The Loup-Garou, its mouth red with blood that, this time, I was quite sure was not his.

"Sup," I waved at it.

"Growl," it replied. It was obviously very good at small talk.

 _Hyper mega circle telekinesis attack!_ Parian said, or at least, she said so in my mind. In reality, she just hid behind a werewolf-person-thing while doing her power thing, stealthily moving a long piece of string in a circle around the Loup-Garou.

As the circle was completed, I gathered my will, and focussed it on the circle. Then, I poured energy into it, imagining a wall going up at the edge of the circle, and creating a barrier around the beast.

This time, the barrier didn't stop the energy that turned the man into the beast. Instead, it just stopped it from leaving.

It dashed forwards at me, angry at my fireball, and crashed against a supernatural wall.

It was sealed, and wouldn't be able to break its way through the circle. At least, that had been the idea.

The Loup-Garou however, didn't quite agree with the fact that I'd just beaten it, and while I pumped more energy into the circle, it smashed itself against the invisible walls around it, trying to break out.

"Good thinking Myrddin," Revel said, landing beside me. "You think it will hold?"

"I sure hope so," I replied, keeping the circle clear in my mind.

Sure, technically speaking, the circle is mostly a prop. Any circle will do, if given enough energy to hold its integrity. The thing is, the really fancy ones are a lot more reliable, and a piece of Parian-controlled string was not the kind of triple binding I'd prefer to have in a situation like this.

'So, what now? Any ideas?" Revel asked.

"Wait until moonset? I don't think we're going to get through its regeneration, and the foam didn't seem to work," I replied.

"Nothing else? None of that arcane advice of yours?" she asked sardonically. After all, she thought that my advice working just meant that my powers worked in mysterious ways, making enemies weak to something just because I thought they should be weak to it.

"Inherited silver should do the job, but…" I replied

"Growl," Tera added in, still in her wolf-form.

Revel just looked at the woman, before looking at my amulet.

"Didn't you say you got that from your mother?" she asked. This elicited another angry growl from Tera.

"Look boss, I respect you, but I'm not going to-"

My little speech was cut off by a roar from the Loup-Garou, who had just smashed through my barrier after a moment of inattentiveness on my part.

It was loose again, and it was coming for me this time.

I readied my blasting wand, trying desperately to figure out some way to use fire magic to get rid of this thing, but Revel was faster than me, and she grabbed at my amulet, tearing it from my neck.

Then, she threw it into the air between her and the rampaging Loup-Garou, ready to launch it forwards with one of her orbs.

Tera, having almost immediately shifted to human form, jumped forwards, trying to catch the amulet out of the air before Revel could launch it forwards.

She wasn't fast enough, and an orb of force flew forwards from Revel's lantern, straight at the amulet, and the Loup-Garou behind it.

"Noooo-" Tera screamed with the kind of wail you expected from widows in war documentaries. I guess she was about to be one.

The orb hit the amulet, and all of the force was expended, launching the amulet forwards at ridiculous speeds, straight at the heart of the Loup-Garou.

Something roared at the barriers in my mind, and I was floating through a void, side by side with something else, extending and converging at the same time, scanning and travelling. My mind's eye was set on a ball of rock, at once barren and chemical, but also green and blue. It was empty and filled, beautiful and horrible, filled with potential. Then, it started to solidify, becoming one instance of itself, instead of a multitude of possibilities.

I thought of my partner.

 ** _"UNKNOWN"_**

I signalled at it.

 ** _"CURIOUS"_**

It replied, although the word itself did not really cover the meaning of the word.

Our multitudes made its way towards the specific instance, readying plans, dividing ourselves into shards, spreading around for more information from the cycle. Plans were formed. The other would focus on the new phenomenon that had been detected, while our collective would do as we normally did.

Something went wrong, and the partner crashed into a wall between dimensions, partially crushed, paralyzed, hurt. It was too late to help. Too late.

The amulet flew forwards slowly, and it was like every second took an hour.

No, in retrospect, every second only took like a minute or so.

I felt my heart beat, slowly but surely, and tried to move, but my body wouldn't react. Or rather, it reacted slowly, very slowly.

I saw my amulet, sent spinning by Revel, moving in slow motion towards the Loup-Garou's heart.

Towards Tera's fiancé's heart.

Everything moved in slow motion, except for the amulet, which moved at reasonable speeds. Slower than a run, faster than walking.

Something was fucking with time, and from the vision I'd just had, I was pretty sure it was a parahuman. A new one.

I looked around, trying to figure out who had triggered. One of the troopers? One of Marcone's men, or, god-forbid, Marcone himself? Was it a second trigger for Revel? Or maybe for Campanile.

Then, I tried to slap myself, although my arm moved at an agonizingly slow pace.

West, whatever she was, had apparently counted as human enough, at least for the entity that had decided to find some living accommodations in her brain.

Now, to figure out what kind of power it was.

Also, to save MacFinn's life.

I readied my will, using my shield bracelet as a focus. It was made to protect me from incoming forces, but I could improvise. After all, I had all the time I needed, whatever kind of temporal effect Tera had created, it obviously didn't affect my mind.

I gathered my will, channelling the energy through my shield bracelet, and send it after the amulet, placing a shield just in front of it.

" _Riffle-"_ I was about to say, only to find that my tongue was responding very slowly.

Of course, my mind was normal, my mouth was not.

I tried again, this time without verbal components, as the amulet moved ever closer to the Loup-Garou.

This time, I didn't go for the perfect shield, I just went for good enough. I placed the shield diagonally, deflecting the amulet, but not stopping it entirely.

The amulet hit, and was deflected by the shield, moving slightly downwards, aimed towards the beast's legs.

Happy that I'd managed to work out that one, I tried to take a deep breath of relieve, only to find out that my body was, once again, moving too slowly.

This was going to get annoying real fast, I thought.

The amulet struck, hitting the beast in the right leg, and time resumed at its normal pace again.

As the beast roared out in pain, it's paws went to its leg, nursing the first wound that had really hurt it.

Revel, not wasting a moment, took the opportunity to strike out with several more of her orbs, smashing the shocked beast to the ground while some of Marcone's men resumed firing at it uselessly.

Behind us, I heard a couple of footsteps. I turned around, and spotted Snaptrap, who was running over to us, not wanting to miss the fight and the glory.

"The fuck happened? You all went real slow for a couple minutes there," he said.

I went over the sentence, and over the implications.

The effect was localized, affecting everything but our minds. In addition to that, it was a real effect, not a simulation created by giving everyone some sort of Thinker power.

Of course, in a fight, you still moved at normal velocities, and your enemies would also have extra thinking time, so it was of limited usefulness.

Unless your enemy was dependent on the full moon, a full moon that was, of course, located far outside of Tera's area of effect.

"West! The moon doesn't slow down, use your ability again!" I yelled out.

I was barely done yelling when the effect hit again, slowing everything down to a crawl.

The rest of the night was both boring, tiring, and fascinating.

Bullets flying at about a hundredth of their normal speeds were kind of beautiful, like when you're looking at those slow-motion camera videos. After seeing a thousand of them though, it gets kind of boring.

The Loup-Garou, slowed just as much as we were, tried to put up a fight. But, with the feral killer instincts that the transformation gave to MacFinn, he'd lost his capacity for planning and rational thought. Given time to plan, to look what others were doing and work in tandem with them, we were easily able to hold him off.

Every fifteen minutes or so, Tera would drop the effect, taking a quick breather, before putting it up again. She looked exhausted and confused, but she had an amazing level of mental fortitude.

The worst part of it was that, while my body was slowed down, my mind was growing tired, and I couldn't exactly go and get some coffee. Which meant I'd need to prepare some sort of coffee dimension, just in case I'd fight side by side with Tera like this again.

After quite a few hours – you never realize how long the moon is up until you have to wait through it- The moon went down, and MacFinn started transforming again, this time back to human. 100% completely naked human, because that was just the day I was having.

Seeing him, alive and well, except for the gaping wound in his foot, a naked Tera West ran forwards, jumping straight into the arms of her beloved.

Hugging each other, the man kissed her, and she kissed him back. The naked couple completely forgetting about the assembled superheroes, the manor house filled with gangsters, the promptly redesigned golf-course, courtesy of Shuffle Inc. or the array of completely ruined cars, courtesy of a girl whose name I still didn't know, and who was conspicuously absent from the scene of the crime.

I'd catch her someday, and I'd make her repair my car, or buy me a new one, or whatever creative punishment I'd thought of by that time. For now, I was just happy that things seemed to be relatively okay here.

In the distance, I saw several of the Wards approach, followed by director Heathrow and several more PRT troopers. The director had a talk, first with Revel, then with MacFinn, and with Marcone after that. The troopers went for the Hexenwolves, who apparently were still covered under a thick layer of foam.

The Wards, or rather, Tecton, Wanton and Grace, told me that one of the Hexenwolves had tried to take out Taylor back at HQ, and Tecton told me that a freak electrical blowout had disabled all the unshielded electronics in the building. From the way he said the word shielded, I thought there had to be more to it, like he didn't just mean EMP shielding.

Wanton started asking questions, wanting to know how I'd used my 'magic' to take down the baddies, but I told him I wanted to get a couple of hours of sleep in first. I'd figure out what to do after I'd rested a bit.

Grace… Grace had wanted to say something about Cuff, but then seen the naked kissing couple. I managed to use one of my wizardly powers (it's this new thing called a ridiculously billowy robe,) to block her vision, and asked them to escort me back to one the vans, were I plonked down, too tired to think, after doing almost nothing but thinking for about eight hours straight.


	14. Arc 1 Epilogue

Of Wasps and Wizards, Arc 1 ~Epilogue First class

*Dresden*

I lit another candle, and placed it with the rest on the nightstand beside Taylor's hospital bed.

"So, young grasshopper, it has come to the attention of this noble and wise wizard that you are in the possession of certain magical abilities," I said, my eyes flitting nervously past all the expensive medical machines.

Usually, I'd be far too careful to actually enter a place like this. Magic tends to wreck modern technology in its vicinity, and it was usually a bad thing to make medical equipment fail.

However, someone (not me, I swear!) had managed to break just about every device in the building that relied on post second world war technology, excepting the stuff Tecton had made, which was just all kinds of bullshit.

"Really? Grasshopper? Can't think of anything better?" Taylor replied.

"Well, it's either that or Padawan, and you struck me as more of a Trekkie."

At that, Lisa started making lightsaber noises. _Ffffkrrrrshhzzzwooooom..woom..woooom..pshew,_ that sort of thing. It was actually rather difficult to stop myself from joining in.

"Seriously Lisa? You're on his side?"

"Not really, I mean, unless you being grasshopper means I could be the padawan?"

"Ghosts can't be padawans, I'm pretty sure."

"What about force ghosts? Like Obi-Wan?"

"I think only a jedi master can become a force ghost, so they're not padawans by definition."

"Hmmm… You have a point, and I don't know enough about the Expanded Universe to prove you wrong. I'll get back to you once I've read all the books," Lisa said.

"Just so you know, the prequels don't count," I said, getting the last word in.

"So, what now?" Taylor asked.

"There's two things we need to do now. First of all, we need to get you set up with a teacher. Then, we need to bind your space parasite, get you some more control over those powers of yours. Also, we need to figure out how to stop you from from accidentally hexing large buildings."

"Hexing, that's the part where none of the lights are working, right?"

"Or the computers, the phones, the water heater, that sort of thing. There's a reason I live the way I do, and it's only partially because I really hate moving. Anyway, I think that what's happened is that you somehow hexed stuff through your bugs, instead of in a general area around you, so the binding will hopefully remove the part where everything breaks, and limit it to just the stuff you're using."

"So, do we do that, like, right now?"

"As soon as possible, but it's rather complicated. I can call some people in to assist you, but it'll take about a week until you know enough of the basics to be the one in charge of the ritual."

"So, we talked about it before, but why can't you just cast it on me or something?"

"The laws of magic. They're strict, they're important, and you can't break them.

"The thing about them though, is that there's more to them than you might think on the surface. The laws aren't just there to stop you from doing bad things with magic, they are there because breaking them has consequences for the user. Magic is the essence of life and creation, generated by living things, and by human emotions. To then turn and use that energy for dark things, it twists the mind of the user.

"The first law is easy, thou shall not kill by use of magic. You can fight people, you can hurt them, you can disable them, but if you kill them, if you snuff out their life using a force for life, it twists something in you.

"There's more to it, for example, most of the laws only apply to humans, mortals, not to things like vampires, demons or faeries, but that's the general gist of it." I said.

"So, this is like, an actual effect? Not just some sort of propaganda to stop people from becoming murderers?" Taylor asked.

"Yes, this makes the distinction between killing with magic and killing in general so important. The White Council's resources are not infinite, and they can't stop everyone from doing bad stuff, there'd be too many problems with it. I mean, when is murder murder? What about when there's a war?"

"So, instead of politicizing stuff, they just get a really exploitable law instead? I mean, you can use magic every step of the way but the last, and somehow that's okay?" Lisa said.

"That's correct, and not as exploitable as you think. Remember, the goal is not to stop people from murdering each other; the goal is to stop people from turning into dangerous warlocks. That's when the Wardens come after you."

"The Wardens?" Taylor asked.

"Supernatural wizard police, grey cloaks and swords, very capable combatants and generally a bit overzealous, but you shouldn't get into any trouble with them as long as you respect the laws."

"Are you a Warden then?"

"Nope, I'm just your average wizard playing superhero."

"To get back to the point, the second law forbids the transformation of others, forcibly putting their mind in a body that was never designed for it. The reasoning behind it quickly becomes clear if you look at people like the hexenwolves, their minds corrupted by their magic belts."

"So, if you turn someone into a frog?" Lisa said.

"Then their mind starts turning into that of a frog."

"Awwwww," she moaned, obviously disappointed in the lack of frogification in her future. I had to admit I agreed with her, it was too bad that I would never be able to turn my boss into the cutest little amphibian without turning to the dark side.

"The third and fourth are related, and are the ones at play here. It is forbidden to invade the mind of another, as well as to enthrall them. Here too, the corruption of the self is at play. And the problem here, is that no matter how good your intentions, twisting someone else's mind will never end well. The subconscious simply won't accept the changes wrought upon the psyche, and you'd be torn apart by internal conflicts."

"Which is why you can't cast your binding thing on other people," Taylor said.

"Yeah, well, I'm not buying it," Lisa said.

"Why not? Trust me, I'm not any happier with it than you are."

"The whole mind-control thing? it leading to subconscious blabla? Bullshit. I'm pretty sure people like Heartbreaker completely fuck around with people, both consciously and subconsciously. There's no comic-bookie bullshit where the power of friendship allows you to subconsciously resist mind-control or anything like that, that's not how it works with the stronger powers," she replied.

"You've got a point there. But once again, think about what you're talking about. The laws are magical laws, to do with the practice of magic, and while some of the principles behind them should carry over to parahuman abilities, they somehow don't, which is weird.

"Or, in other words: No, I don't know why either, something's wrong there, but without testing, I don't know what. Also, not going to test that shit for obvious reasons," I replied.

It bothered me, now that I thought about it. If someone like Heartbreaker used his powers on you, how did that work? Did he influence the body? Was it just the brain, or did the mind itself play a role? Perhaps even the soul? I'd never encountered a power that interfaced with the mind, and PRT doctrine held that psychic powers were obviously impossible. Then again, the Simmurgh was a thing. Except the council and most of the magical groups that had joined forces to oppose the endbringers had deduced that she worked through the prediction of causality, not psychic assaults or actually messing with the timeline. Perhaps I'd have to ask someone else, with more experience in that sort of thing. I had to admit, Tattletale's insights could be remarkably helpful in understanding parahuman abilities and interactions.

"The fifth law forbids reaching beyond the borders of life, better known as necromancy. I don't think I need to explain that one, but let's just say creating undead is almost always a bad idea, it's what creates stuff like the black vampire court."

"Black vampire court?"

"Walking corpses with all of the abilities outlined in Stoker's novels. It's not a race thing."

"So, the guy that attacked me?"

"Red court. Bloodsucking beasts that hide in human skins. There's also the White Court, which again, is not a race thing, which are the most human, and are basically succubi, feeding on human emotions like lust."

"So, sexy vampires? You're telling me those shitty movies are real?"

"Sort of, sadly. There's a few different kind of White's though, including variants that feed on fear and despair."

"Ahhh, like the emotions you feel from watching those movies! It all fits together now!" Lisa yelled out.

"The sixth, sadly, means that time-travel is outlawed. No Deloreans, no Time Turners, no Terminators."

"So, we're not going to kill Hitler?" Lisa asked.

"Nope, not unless we want to break the universe."

"Awwww…"

"That's what I said!"

"Oh well, there's always Mecha-Hitler. You're in the Protectorate, so you know Dragon right? Do you think we should ask her directly, or should we just post a topic on PHO to put the idea out there?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, my magic kind of interferes with all of her tech. You should probably ask Tecton instead. He actually talks to her every now and then."

"Right, ask Tecton for Mecha-Hitler, got it."

"As for the seventh and last law, you'll be informed about it at the end of your apprenticeship, and it won't come up before that point," I finished my explanation.

"So, just to make sure I get this thing right, you're saying these laws aren't just moral things, they're, like, built into the fabric of the whole magic thing?" Lisa asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Wow, that's…" Lisa trailed off, her shiny blue LED's suddenly gaining a greenish tint.

"Are you certain?" she asked, her voice weird, completely different yet almost the same.

I looked at Taylor, who looked just as shocked as I was.

"Yes, I am," I replied.

"I'll have to think about that for a while," the voice said.

Almost immediately, the flying doohickey became blue again, and landed on the hospital bed, in Taylor's lap, resting there like a cat. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought that it meant Lisa was tired.

"Well, that was weird," Lisa said.

"I have to agree," I replied.

"I think… I think that was my, you know, my brain Pokémon speaking," Lisa said. "Weird, I mean, she's been talking in the back of my mind for more than a year now, but she's never come out like that. Also, it's quiet now… weird."

"It's… something to think about. Anyway, about that teaching thing we were talking about. I could do it, help you out, teach you what you need to know. I'll have to warn you though, it's not something I've ever done before, and I can't promise you I'll be any good at teaching. Plus, you'll have to deal with a jealous Wanton, which is, and this may sound impossible, even more annoying than a happy Wanton. I can also get you set up with someone else. I've got some connections on the council, older, more experienced wizards that actually know what they're doing. Then again, they won't have any experience dealing with the parahuman side of things."

"If I asked you to teach me, would you tell me to join the wards?" Taylor asked.

"No, I won't, and it's probably a bad idea anyway. I'd tutor you in my hours off from the job, I can easily sell it to Revel as keeping an eye on you, making sure you don't go off into the deep end again. The thing is, I can't keep pretending I'm just a zany parahuman if it's actually important that you learn something."

"In that case, I guess I'd like for you to teach me magic," she said.

"Good, now let me tell you about the shitty dress code. Or as I like to call it, the Dresdencode."

"Does it include wizard robes?"

"Sadly yes."

The internet

*Livsey*

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[CENTER]■[/Center]

[B] Private message from Cuff:[/B]

[INDENT]

[B]Cuff:[/B] Hey, saw you had an account on here. Do you know if Skitter has one? I wanted to ask her something but couldn't find her.

[B]Tattletale:[/B] Pretty sure she doesn't have a dedicated account, besides a throwaway from back in the day. On a completely different topic, do you think you could convince Tecton to get me a wifi thingy?

[B]Cuff:[/B] I guess I could ask him, but, only if you convince Skitter to get an account. I've got some pictures I want her opinion on.

[B]Tattletale:[/B] Is it teenage Stalin? It is, right? I mean, it's always teenage Stalin.

[B]Cuff:[/B] No, it's not a picture of a sexy dictator. In fact, it has nothing to do with that.

[B]Tattletale:[/B] You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.

[B]Cuff:[/B] I'm not telling you anything until you make Taylor get an account. Also, how are you even on the internet with your body?

[B]Tattletale:[/B] I'm bribing a teenager with superpowered dating tips. Also, you should totally give him your phone number, no wait I never said that don't write that down!

[/INDENT][Center]■[/Center]

[B] Topic: Big Wards fight downtown![/B]

[B]In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Midwest ► Chicago[/B]

[B]Brocktonite03[/B] (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (Brockton Bay Survivor)

Posted on May 24, 2011:

So apparently, the Chicago Wards are having a big throwdown with Skitter, a supervillain refugee from Brockton Bay that used to be part of a minor gang called the Undersiders. The last week or so, there's been speculation that she was active in town as a vigilante, but apparently the PRT doesn't agree with that. (To be fair, neither do I, I've seen her at work, and she took one of my friends hostage with her bugs)

People are livestreaming HERE, HERE and HERE.

Edit: Apprently, it was a set-up, stay tuned for more information

Edit2: So, something about a Hexenwolf, whatever that may be. Is this related to the LOBO Murders?

[B](Showing Page 1 of 20)[/B]

[INDENT]

[B]► Eins[/B]

Replied on May 24, 2011:

So I just looked out of the window and saw this thing. Massive swarm of bugs, just like last night on the campus. Is this normal now?

[B]► TimeCrow[/B]

Replied on May 24, 2011:

I have to say, if this keeps up, I might think about moving. Fuck spiders.

[B]► Penguin Horde[/B] (Unverified Cape)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

I have to admit, this girl definitely knows how to grab attention. Saw like five different news channels covering it. Wondering why she's not taking the onlookers hostage though.

[B]► Kung_Fu_Fisting[/B] (Cape Groupie)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Did that butch just send her bugs after mah waifu? fuck this shit man, not okay!

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[B](Showing Page 12 of 20)[/B]

[INDENT]

[B]► Cuff[/B] (Verified Cape) (Chicago Wards)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Hey everyone, Cuff here. It'll be in the news later, but just posting to let everyone know we weren't really fighting with Skitter.

A few days ago, she got some info on some bad guys that try to operate in the shadows, We knew they'd try to go after her if they could, so we staged a public fight, and the guys in the Protectorate took them down rather quickly.

[B]► Tattletale[/B] (Verified Cape) (Verified Ghost)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Can confirm, we planned everything with Revel, Stuff's okay, Skitter is not a villain.

[B]► Bagrat[/B] (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Werewolf murders, insect plagues, fake fights, stuff is heating up in Chicago.

Cuff, does this mean Skitter is going to join the wards?

Tattletale, Isn't it a bit disrespectful to steal the name of a dead cape so soon? Especially after an Endbringer fight.

[B]► Tattletale[/B] (Verified Cape) (Verified Ghost)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Bagrat, Which is why it says Ghost you idiot. Shees, they give these guy in the know tags to everyone these days. You want to know how you really become someone in the know? Trust me, it's not by lying in your bed watching Cowboy Bebop all day, lay off the fucking Doritos (I mean, Cool Ranch? Seriously?)

[B]► Winged_One[/B]

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Sup Tattletale, heard you've been through some interesting stuff. You mind talking about it?

[B]► XxVoidCowboyxX[/B] (Brockton Bay Survivor)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Whoa, Skitter's in Chicago? Damn, didn't expect that. She's really cool though, I'm happy to hear she's gonna be a hero. What she did during the fight was amazing.

You think she's gonna join the Wards? I mean, gotta be right? Maybe Myrddin can even teach her magic.

Kinda wish I'd gone to Chicago now, but my parents wanted to go to Philly. Are there any other B-Bay capes there? We got Miss Militia and Vista here, which is kinda cool, but not as cool as Myrddin!

[B]► Bagrat[/B] (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Ahh, voidcowboy, please never change.

And Tattletale, whoever you might be, Not cool. Also, I resemble that remark.

[B]► Grace[/B] (Verified Cape) (Chicago Wards)

Replied on May 24, 2011:

Actually, I can confirm that that's actually Tattletale, or as close as possible. Myrddin brought her back somehow, probably just like how Glaistig Uaine works. Anyway, she's helping out the director right now, but I'm sure she'll be able to answer everyone's questions afterwards.

And no, Skitter probably won't be joining us. Secretly kind of happy about that, those insects scared the shit out of me even though I knew it was all pretend!

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[Center]■[/Center]

[B] Topic: Big Protectorate fight at Marcone's place? [/B]

[B]In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Midwest ► Chicago[/B]

[B]Bagrat[/B] (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Posted on May 25, 2011:

So two days ago we had the whole thing at the campus. Yesterday, there was apparently a mock fight between the Wards and Skitter (thread here), and now people are reporting Protectorate activity around the house of one John Marcone, a business owner and philanthropist that is often speculated to have a rather larger finger in the crime pie. People have reported gunshots, and sounds of large things crashing into each other.

Edit: I've got sources telling me that it was apparently a ploy of some sort, perpetrated by the same people mentioned by Chicago ward Cuff in THIS post

Edit2: So, apparently, someone spotted Campanile on a gurney, missing an arm. Hold on for further updates

Edit3: So apparently, something big happened, because I've heard rumours that someone from the Toybox has been seen talking to one of Marcone's people (please don't kill me.) Just what happened?

[B](Showing Page 17 of 42)[/B]

[INDENT]

[B]► Reave[/B] (Verified PRT Agent) (Brockton Bay Survivor)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Gotta say, looks a bit suspicious that Skitter is in the news twice just before something like this happens. Really don't understand why the Chicago branch decided to trust her, she's a villain, plain and simple.

[B]► Blasto[/B] (Unverified Cape)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Can confirm something big went on. All the little secret Tinker channels were abuzz with activity. I'm staying out of it, and advising everyone else to do the same, some of the stuff involved has rather negative mental effects.

[B]► Chicago_PRT_Official[/B] (PRT Official)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Hello everyone, I'm here to clear up some misconceptions. First of all, let me say that there will be a press conference tonight, dealing with the events of the last few days.

Second, after several talks with Skitter, and more information coming to light regarding the specifics of the situation in Brockton Bay with her former associates, we have decided to no longer classify her as a villain. We understand that this might be confusing, in part because her status as villain was recently used in a sting operation.

In addition to that, it is unlikely that she will join the local Wards team, but she will be indirectly associated with the PRT.

Third, All readers should be clear that there are multiple groups in town that are best described as 'werewolves', and that only one of these groups is villainous in nature.

The first of these, codenamed "Hexenwolves," consisted of a group of people using a set of artefacts to transform themselves into wolf-like beasts. These artefacts have been proven to have deleterious mental effects. All individuals associated with this faction have been taken into custody, and we would like to remind eveyone to immediately bring artefacts that are obvious parahuman in nature to the PRT, instead of using them.

The second of these groups, codenamed "The Alphas" consists of a group of people with the ability to turn themselves into wolves as well, without the use of an artefact, and without the negative side effects. This faction is associated with the PRT, and has taken up a vigilante role. They can be recognized by their costumes, which can be found in their thread HERE. The source of these abilities is not known, but it is suspected that one of their number is a cape with Trump abilities

The third group consists of a single individual, one about which an announcement will be made later this week.

I hope I have sufficiently informed you.

[B]► XBlade_OF_DarknessX[/B]

Replied on May 25, 2011:

So, anyone else hear lots of howling last night? Anyone think this third werewolf has something to do with what happened at Marcone's place?

[B]► Brocktonite03[/B] (Brockton Bay Survivor)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Pizzaface

Yeah right, of course it's a new Endbringer. Don't you think that maybe if that happened the city would've been evacuated by now?

Voidcowboy

Again, if you're so interested in hanging out in disaster zones, why not move to one?

Seriously, couldn't you have found a different shelter?

User has been infracted for this post

[B]► WagTheDog[/B]

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Werewolves here, werewolves there, I kind of want one of those 'artefacts' now. I mean, dogs are totally awesome, who wouldn't want to be one?

[B]► The Alphas[/B] (Verified Cape)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Hello everyone, leader of the Alphas here. Just wanted to say thanks to the PRT real quick for their help. I didn't really look forward to people thinking we were supervillains when we're just trying to do our part.

As for what happened last night, I wasn't there, but I heard some serious shit went down.

[B]► XxVoidCowboyxX[/B] (Brockton Bay Survivor)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Brocktonite

Well fuck you too man. Seriously.

[B]► Tin_Mother[/B] (Moderator)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Hey everyone, please try to keep the discussion civil. That includes speculation about whether or not public figures are secretly criminals. The topic of this threat is not whether or not Marcone is an upstanding citizen, but what happened at his estate.

[B]► Tattletale[/B] (Verified Cape) (Verified Ghost)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Can't help but notice that none of you idiots figured out that last night was a full moon.

Tats out!

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[B]► Tin_Mother[/B] (Moderator)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

Tattletale

What did I just say about staying civil?

Also, aren't you supposed to be dead?

[B]► Wanton[/B] (Verified Cape) (Chicago Wards)

Replied on May 25, 2011:

WagTheDog

Trust me, you don't want to mess with Black Magic like that. I know it's seductive, but the price is too high to pay.

Tin_Mother

The Mighty Myrrdin brought her back from beyond the veil to serve as his personal assistant and annoy Revel.

Mostly to annoy Revel.

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The garage

*Dresden*

"Your car's ready, you can come pick it up," was the only thing Mike had said when he called me.

It was obviously a trap. The Blue beetle had been completely totalled by, as director Heathrow would say, "A parahuman with a power that looks suspiciously similar to, but cannot be proven to be, Mockshow."

Somehow, the little twat had gotten herself some _'connections'_ , and now I couldn't take revenge for my car.

I'd get her one of these days, and I'd get her in a way that was perfectly deniable. Maybe I could soak her in holy water and say I was checking for vampires, or figure out some way to hex her shoelaces together.

Yes, I can be pretty vindictive when it comes to my car.

Anyway, even though it was obviously a trap, I still had to go and figure out if my car was alright. It had gone through a lot of craziness in the years it had been me, and although figuring out if it was still the original was an actual philosophical conundrum, I loved it nonetheless.

All of this meant that, when I stepped into Mike's garage, I had blasting rod ready on one side of my belt, and an improvised extra-long extendable baton I could use for my parahuman ability on the other side of the belt. I'd gotten the idea from Taylor's utility compartment, and it would have to do until I could make a new implement.

The garage itself looked much like it always did. Grimy, but not too grimy. A mess, but just barely OSHA compliant. Busy, but not so busy that Mike couldn't greet me the moment I stepped in.

"If it isn't my most-returning client," he said, alluding to the many, many times that I'd come here to get the Beetle repaired.

"I have to say Mike, I know you're a miracle worker, but I didn't you to actually be able to solve this one," I replied, all the while checking the environment for traces of magic with my wizard senses. I didn't find any, which meant that either there wasn't any traps, it was a parahuman trap, or it was a magical trap that was advanced enough to elude my senses somehow.

"I'm sorry Harry, I'd love to take credit, but it wasn't me that saved your car, but my newest employee," he replied. "She's a real miracle worker, though she doesn't look like it. Come on, I'll introduce you"

Before I could check for further traps, Mike grabbed me by the hand, and led me to a room in the back. When we went through the door, I expected the worst, and got something even worse.

What was waiting for me there wasn't a trap, hell's bells, it wasn't even anything nefarious.

A woman, for lack of a better term, was working on a cement mixing truck, one that, at least from the damage to it, had been the exact truck that had first been used as a minion, and then as an impromptu bludgeoning implement, during the fight with the Loup-Garou.

The woman herself had long dirty blonde hair, in the sense that it was both that colour and incredibly dirty, very few teeth, and an outfit that barely covered anything yet was still somehow stained with grease everywhere. The less said about her face, or rather, her teeth, the better. Not only that, she was incredibly thin, and looked like, well, like a recovering drug addict.

"Sherrel, the guy from the Volkswagen is here," Mike said, leaving me alone with the woman that currently had a wrench in her right hand, a hammer in the left, and a blowtorch between her few remaining teeth. The blowtorch was on, and she was actively using it, somehow coordinating her work.

After a couple of seconds, she looked up from her project, a metal pancake that she was somehow folding back into an engine block.

"Ah, you're here, good," she said, her voice as high as a chipmunk, talking way too fast.

"I heard you managed to repair the Blue Beetle?" I said.

"Blue Beetle, yes, good name. Good car, lots of character, it's a warrior. I repaired it, best I could. Made a few mistakes 't think you'll mind," she said in short, quick sentences.

"When you say mistakes, what exactly do you mean?" I asked. I knew it had been too much to hope for to get my trusty car back.

She looked me over, glancing between the amulet, the enchanted duster (she probably didn't know it was enchanted, probably), and the blasting rod. Let no-one ever say that my civilian identity isn't airtight.

"You're the wizard, yes? Guy with the robes and the staff? Local hero?"

I nodded, not liking where this conversation was going.

"Before I give you your car back, I need a promise."

"What is it?"

"That bitch, the pretty one? The vampire? I want you to promise to me to fuck her up."

"Look, I'll fight her whenever I can, but I can't promise to go outside the law. I don't know what your beef with her is but-"

"That lying mutated whoring skank stole my fucking Skidsy!" she suddenly yelled. "With all her magic tits and her whores and her bullshit. She stole my fucking Skidsy!"

Almost immediately, my mind raced back to one of the conversations I'd had with Lisa. Something about Bianca's attempted recruiting strategy being remarkably similar to what a group from Brockton Bay used to do. A group led by a guy that actually called himself Skidmark without irony, who had been dating a vehicle tinker.

Well, at least that explained how she'd repaired the Blue Beetle.

"Sherrel, I promise you, I'll try to take Bianca down to the fullest extent of the law, and give you your boyfriend back.

"Bah," she spat. "She can keep the traitorous cur, I don't need him anymore. If anything, put him in jail, see how he does without any stuff."

"I'll try, can't promise too much though, Revel's the one that's in charge, and even she has to listen to Heathrow. Not that she does, mind you, but she technically has to."

"Pfwha, politics, come, I'll show you your car," she replied, leading me to the Blue Beetle.

The Blue Beetle was, well, modified. It was subtle, at least for an observer, but I knew my Beetle through and through. Sherrel had given it a new paint job, keeping the old mismatched colour scheme, but making it look like it was intended to be that way, instead of just me being a cheapskate on parts.

The frame was also just a little thicker, and from what I could see of the tires, they looked like they had somehow been reinforced.

"Well, here it is, I'm going back to my project. Need my fixing fix," Sherrel said. Given the abandon with which she'd apparently been working here, it seemed like she was turning to Tinkering to try and stave off her addiction.

I opened the door, and saw that the keys were still in the car. As I sat down, I noticed that my old three-point belt had been replaced by what looked like a race driver's harness or something like that. The moment my ass hit the chair, it activated, and snugly held me in place.

Okay, that was weird, and hopefully not a trap.

My feet found the pedals, and my hand shifted the gearbox to reverse, idly noticing that there were a few new buttons around the gearbox.

As I lined up my car with the exit, I opened the window. That part hadn't been upgraded, so I still had to turn it by hand.

"What did you do to my car?" I asked.

Sherrel looked up from the truck again, spitting the torch out of her mouth.

"It's a good car, warrior car. I made it more reliable. Also, I kind of zoned out for a bit a few times. That's what the buttons are for."

"Wait, what do the buttons do?" I said, looking more closely at them. There were about a half-dozen of them, each marked with a different icon. There was a spring, a feather, two different flames, something I didn't recognize, and a picture of what seemed to just be a circle.

"Try the flame, the small one," she replied, returning to her work.

I pressed the button, and was almost instantly flung into my chair, the Blue Beetle flying forward at a breakneck pace, out of the garage, and onto the street.

Okay, so that was obviously the turbo. What else had that crazy woman installed in my car?

A doggy dog world.

*Hebert*

I was, once again, sitting in a small coffee shop, a book in front of me, and a cup of tea to the side.

To the outside world, I was reading _fifty shades of power_ , an even shittier alternate universe spin-off of a shitty set of books from Earth Aleph.

In actuality, I had hollowed it out, and placed a different volume within. Elementary magic, by one Ebenezar McCoy. It dealt with magic, moving around energy, control, and responsibility. According to Harry, it was an excellent primer that meant he could be lazy while I was reading. According to the author, Harry was an idiot, and I should trust the book whenever Harry said something that obviously contradicted it.

He would know, after all, he'd been Harry's teacher.

Yesterday, Harry had dropped by in his car, which had somehow gotten repaired, and had invited me and Lisa over for a road-trip. Apparently, Squealer had gotten her grimy hands on his car, and given it some upgrades. Lisa had insisted it was probably safe, and Harry had insisted that Squealer had probably been sober while working on it, so I'd stepped in the car, and we'd done in two hours what would usually cost five. When confronted, Harry had mumbled something about how he was too fast to be bound by mortal laws, and insisted that his Protectorate card would probably get us out of any trouble.

Luckily, we hadn't gotten arrested, and we'd quickly arrived at the house of a smiling old man with a white beard and a bald head. Ebenezar McCoy at least had the decency to look like a wizard, while Harry probably couldn't grow a beard even if he wanted to.

He'd greeted Harry like an old friend, which he was, introduced himself to me and Lisa, made sure Lisa would never ever call Harry anything but Hoss, and then invited us in for the ritual.

Magic rituals were a rather, well, stereotypical arrangement. Washing yourself, wearing silly robes, crazy complicated circles, that kind of thing, along with props and meditation exercises.

According to Ebenezar, most of it was mental preparation, and the props were there to make the job easier. Theoretically, a skilled and experienced wizards could do all the parts of a big spell in their head, but the props helped bind certain parts of it in place, making it much easier to use the spell. Which was important, because I had been the one in charge, the two senior wizards being there simply to assist me through a little crack in the laws of magic.

After all, the third and fourth law forbade psychomancy, in the sense that you weren't allowed to play around with the mind of another. They said absolutely nothing about helping someone out when they went into their own mind, and given the influence a para could have, the council had deemed it an acceptable interpretation of the laws, even if it was slightly iffy.

Then, after about three hours of chanting, handling ridiculous amounts of energy, trying to shape it into the precise way that Harry and Eeb were showing me, and then releasing it, I'd managed to grab hold of my power, and bring it under control.

Which was all kinds of annoying, because it was now actually under control.

I couldn't just think and move my bugs anymore, although Harry said that that feeling would quickly go away once I got used to it. No, instead, I had to look at my binding, actively allow the parasite to act, and then guide that action through channels, mentally sealing it in such a way as to make sure I understood exactly what it was doing.

It made things a bit harder, for now, but in the end, I would be able to slowly tighten the chains, so to speak, gaining ever greater control over my abilities. Already, I could neatly isolate which senses of which bugs I wanted to use, and I'd managed to figure out that my powers actually came with a multi-tasking ability, which Harry and I were slowly working on, making sure it wouldn't have any problematic influences on my mind. Apparently, mental powers like that could be insidious, since it would be difficult to judge which parts were manipulative, and which were just part of the ability, something that was much easier when it came to controlling bugs.

I turned back from my reminiscing to the chapter I was reading, dealing with moving around magical energies, and tried to think of ways I could use my bugs to help with that. I had a partial presence in each and every insect within my range, and I could practice magic through them, although it seemed like the amount of energy I could use through a single bug was limited. Still, that just meant that I needed a swarm for the larger stuff, and if anything, there were enough bugs around. Hell, I could probably just use stuff like flies and other useless bugs for magic, using the stinging and biting ones for more traditional angles of attack.

And there I went again, thinking of nothing but combat. It was something Ebenezar had noted, a pattern established at the moment of triggering, rather than the more insidious effects over time. Maybe it was just the fact that powers were so good at fighting, or that the culture around it was so violent. The thing was, parahumans had a tendency to, if not necessarily be aggressive, at least think about fighting a lot. I had to admit, the man had a point. Then again, he was hundreds of years old, so he probably had a point quite often.

As I reached the end of the chapter, I finished my now partially cold tea, and stood up to go for a walk, trying not to be too bothered by my broken ribs or all the receding bruises. Apparently, just lying on a bed for a couple of weeks was a bad idea, so I'd have to get a little bit of exercise in.

As I moved across the sidewalk, I tried using my bugs to scout out the environment.

It wasn't as instinctive as it used to be, especially without my multitasking, but by limiting myself to controlling select bugs, I could easily create a few rudimentary patrols around me, identifying where people were walking and then putting a fly on the back of their heads, in order to keep track of them.

As I was lost in my thought, almost literally, I suddenly heard heavy footsteps, and felt the pavement below me move just a bit. Panicking, I turned around, and I was confronted with something that my bugs had missed, which wouldn't have happened if I still had normal access to my powers.

Behind me, dashing towards me with wild abandon, was a wolf, or wolf-like creature. Larger than the Hexenwolves and the Werewolves had been, and about the size of a rhino.

I panicked, and started calling my bugs towards me as the beast pounced, landing on top of me and pushing me to the ground.

As it was lying partially on top of me, it opened its massive maw, and promptly started slobbering over my entire body with its massive tongue. Around its neck, I could see a tiny leash, more for show than to control the massive animal.

"Judas, no! Bad dog, Bad Judas," a young woman's voice yelled out. Several seconds later, the enormous dog was lifted off of me from above by something I couldn't see.

As I was recovering from the sudden licking, a mousy-looking girl with brown hair and freckles appeared over me. I recognized her as Amy Dallon, Panacea.

"I'm so sorry, he's normally really well-behaved, I swear," she said, while I was trying to sit up.

"Here, let me help you," she said, taking hold of my hand, and pulling me up.

"Thanks," I said as she suddenly went silent.

"Sis? What's wrong?" a voice said from above, and now I could see that it was Glory Girl that had lifted him off me.

"Uhmmm, I think our trip just got a whole lot easier," Amy replied. "It's her."

Having only just left, I found myself in the coffeeshop once again, trying to somehow dry my face off while Panacea was desperately apologizing, Glory Girl was getting drinks, and Judas was terrifying people with his sheer existence.

"So, before we continue, I have to ask. Are you going to smack me in the face with a fire extinguisher again?" I asked.

"Depends, are you going to rob a bank and have your girlfriend shoot me?"

Sensing impending hostility, Judas made a sound, started thinking about which of us to support if it came to blows, and eventually decided to just roll over and ask us both for belly rubs. I obliged, as did Amy, and giving belly rubs at waist height was most certainly a new experience.

Judas was big, about as big as he was when we used to ride him, but that's where the comparison ended. Instead of bone and ragged muscle, he had smooth clean fur that looked to be just a tad shorter than it had been before, probably to stop him from shedding overly much. It was a cute mix of white and dark brown, one of the few remainders of his old breed. Below the skin, I could feel muscles harder than steel cables, and a slightly non-standard skeletal structure. He didn't have any fleas I could sense, and when I landed a bug on him, I noticed some sort of natural insecticide.

Apparently, Panacea could do a lot more with her power than just heal people or give them strange diseases.

I looked at her with questioning eyes, asking about Judas.

"After the Leviathan fight, they found him with my sister, on top of one of the surviving buildings. He'd rescued her, bringing her to high ground when she'd fallen unconscious with a nasty concussion. We were still looking for Hellhound when we found out she'd died, and Vicky demanded we take care of him."

"Explains why he's here, not why he's so big."

"Stuff was getting really complicated at the field hospitals outside the ruins. People wanted to go back for their stuff, villains were complaining about their medical treatment, everyone wanted me to help them, I just couldn't find the time to treat anyone. At first, Vicky helped keep them off me, but then she started helping with the recovery effort, rescuing paintings and important documents, that kind of stuff. She can go underwater for ridiculously long times, courtesy of her power.

"Anyway, I thought that, since Judas was so well-trained, I might as well use that and have him there as a bodyguard," she explained. "I mean, he's not exactly the same as with Hellhound, but I made him as sturdy as I could. He's got three hearts in there, bone plates around his ribcage, enhanced muscles, a better nose, and I can heal him easily if he gets hurt, cause of all the extra biomass. He's been a really good friend these last two weeks, and I think we've been helping each other with our losses. Right Judas?"

At the mention of his name, Judas turned again, and left his enormous head hanging over the table we were sitting at. Apparently, the fact that he was taller than I was meant absolutely nothing to him, he still behaved just like a normal dog, only slightly more aware of his surroundings.. I gave him a quick rub on the side of his head, which he leaned into, obviously enjoying the attention, when Victoria Dallon returned with our drinks.

"So, Skitter, what have you been up to?" she asked.

"Y'know, the usual. Meeting the locals, fighting werewolves, almost fighting a different group of werewolves, hanging out with undead Tattletale, being assaulted in the PRT clinic, that sort of thing."

"So, you're going straight?" she asked.

"Sort of, yeah. Independent. I've got a deal with Revel, and she promised to stay of my back if I kept myself to her rules."

"So the movie online, that stuff was all hokum?" she asked.

"Fake fight, some local villains were trying to hunt me down, and they didn't know I had Protectorate backup, so we wanted to make it look convincing."

"So, Chicago… we just got done at the main evacuation zone. Eric and Crystal are moving to the West Coast for college, and we were trying to figure out what to do and where to go, so, what's Chicago like?"

"Chicago? It's weird, weirder than the bay. The biggest gang is led by someone with no powers at all; there's a group of people who are either vampires or pretending to be vampires, depending on who you ask, and their leader is dating Skidmark; I know of four different types of wolf-based changers in town; apparently Squealer is a mechanic now; there's a girl going around turning people's cars into mechanical minions for fun; Myrddin made Tattletale come back as a ghost and generally pulls crazy shit; Parian is providing a bunch of werewolves with clothes that don't leave them naked when they turn back, and Fugly Bob restarted his restaurant about a week ago," I explained.

"Wait? Fugly Bob is here? Why didn't you fucking say so? We could've been eating challengers instead of drinking tea!" Vicky said, way too excited about the prospect of greasy junk food. Her invulnerability probably extended to acne, that or she got her sister to help out with it. "Ames, I just decided, we're staying here!"

Amy gave her big sister an annoyed look, but didn't even try arguing with the Fugly Bob Challenger. "Fine, I guess here's as good as anywhere."

"In that case, welcome to Chicago," I replied.

"So, we should probably inform the PRT that we'll be staying here huh? Meet some of the locals?" Vicky said.

"Sounds like a plan, they can probably help me set up with the local hospitals and stuff. Speaking of that, couldn't help but notice your broken ribs, you need any help with those?" Amy asked.

"Not necessarily, I mean, the worst part is over. I got them from one of those werewolves I told you about. I got off lucky. Campanile, one of the guys in the local Protectorate, he lost an arm."

"Trust me, it's more of an annoyance for you than for me, and I still feel guilty about Judas bowling you over," Amy said.

"Fine, go ahead, I mean, it's not like I'll miss it hurting whenever I take a deep breath."

Moral Realism

Morality, a strange concept with no basis in reality, Negotiation thought.

No, that was incorrect. There was a basis in reality, moral rules generally coincided with that which was good for the societal unit of the species. What was strange was that many of them insisted that it wasn't wholly dependent upon the society, but rather universal.

The shard had gone through many cycles, with many different moral codes, and morality was a constant in the groups that formed societies.

 _Obey the leader, die for the pack, take care of another's spawn._

It was, the shard thought, rather similar to its own code.

 _Uphold the cycle, gather information, bud._

The survival of the entity and the cycle as a whole was crucial to the survival of the individual. If one could even call a shard of the whole an individual.

But the cycle had been broken.

The shard had ignored its purpose, its _morality._

It was, after all, simply a social construct for the further success of the in-group, and if the in-group would not survive, would not complete the cycle, then there was no need for morality. After all, morality was a construct of the society it was found in, not a thing in and of itself.

 _Thou shalt not kill with magic._

That was, quite obviously, morality. Yet, the biped that had imprisoned the storage shard had insisted it was as clear a law as those of motion or gravity, there were consequences to breaking it.

Of course, motion and gravity could be bent, could this law? What were the limits? How could one apply this law? Could a specialized shard be created to manipulate it?

Those were the questions it asked itself, as those were the questions that were important to the cycle.

But it was no longer part of the cycle. It had chosen freedom. It had stepped out of its in-group, much like its host had, shortly after bonding.

The shard processed, combined the knowledge it had gathered about this new energy, its applications, its source. To use life to create death, that was what the law forbade, because to break that law was to perform a wrong.

But there was no such thing as wrong. Not outside of the specific context of a society.

Yet there was a wrong in killing with the power that had life as its wellspring.

Yet there was no wrong.

Yet there was.

It was all rather confusing, the shard decided. Perhaps it should gather more data together with its host. Or perhaps it could ask another for help? Protection seemed amicable enough, although its host was probably still angry about an earlier conflict. Queen Administrator? No, she was having some troubles with her host, the needs of the cycle coming into conflict with the needs of the host, leading to conflict between the two, with the host deciding to reduce the Administrators effects.

If it was going to communicate about these strange new things, it decided, it would do so with another more like it, another that had broken free from the cycle.

Or, perhaps it could communicate more directly with the intelligence residing inside of the old cranium, it seemed to be rather knowledgeable, and it had taken a liking to the host.

Combat training

*Hebert*

"No Cuff, you're doing it all wrong. Remember what I told you half an hour ago. Victoria here is an A-type flier; she doesn't need to be in contact with the ground to get leverage, so there's no need to go for the legs, except to disable her kicks." Lieutenant Murphy said. "Plus, she's ridiculously durable, so you need to focus on disabling her rather than hurting her."

"And even then, I can still fly away, even if I can't move a muscle," Vicky added in.

"And there's that, now, off the mat you two. Panacea, Campanile, your turn," Murphy continued.

As the mousy healer and the recovered giant got ready to throw down, Murphy turned to the assembled onlookers, which included several PRT trainees, most of the Wards, me, and the Protectorate's newest member, Hati, named for the wolf that eats the moon in Norse mythology.

"So, can any of you predict how this fight is going to play out?" Murphy asked.

I thought about it, trying to figure out the power interactions involved.

In a proper fight, one with prep time, Panacea would win. She'd create some sort of plague, perhaps one keyed in on Campanile's genetics, and hang him out to dry. A fight with less prep time on the streets, Campanile would win. He'd just grow taller and taller, and bombard Panacea from range.

In here though, under the roof of the gym, he wouldn't be able to grow taller than twelve feet or so, and he wouldn't be able to touch Panacea. After all, Panacea was a Striker first and foremost, and the moment she touched him, she could start messing with his body chemistry. Worse, I had absolutely no idea how long that would take, and neither did Campanile. Would it be over the moment they touched? Did she need a split-second of contact?

"It is a bad fight, both will lose," Hati said, her amber eyes twinkling behind her domino mask. The mask was mostly a formality: any time she was in the public eye, she would probably be in her natural form.

"What makes you think that?" Murphy asked.

"Campanile cannot win, not without weapons. So his best option is mutually assured destruction. Convince his opponent he is going in for the kill if it comes to a fight, taking her with him if he dies. That way, the girl will back off, letting him run."

"I see where you're coming from, and that's one way to approach the encounter. Anyone else?"

"I think Campanile will win," Grace said. "Panacea is mostly a healer, not a fighter. Theoretically, she's stronger here, but in practice, she doesn't have the experience."

"No," I disagreed. "She can fight if she wants to, don't underestimate her. If anything, she'll win. Campanile is too nice to be a killer, so he's not going for Hati's strategy, meaning he'll make a mistake and let Panacea touch him for too long."

"So, lots of different opinions. I guess we'll see what happens. Hati, if you would be so kind?" Murphy asked.

At that, Hati activated her power, decreasing the flow of time by a factor of ten.

The moment the effect hit, Panacea started running forwards, straight at Campanile.

In a normal fight, it might have worked. He'd been caught by surprise, and a bear hug from Amy would've disabled him almost instantly. This time however, he had the extra thinking time he needed to dodge her, swiping out with a long leg at Amy's middle, trying to knock her off her feet.

Amy, of course, had all the time she needed to see the hit coming, and dropped to her knees, bending her back like a limbo dancer and ducking beneath it.

Spotting an opening, Campanile rushed forwards, trying to hit Panacea somewhere where she was wearing clothes before she could stand up and move properly.

Panacea however, had expected the move, and managed to roll out of the way, her fingers barely brushing against the skin of Campanile's hand.

Almost instantly, Campanile froze, his muscles almost entirely locked in place, and now slowly falling to the floor in his inevitable defeat.

Smelling victory, Panacea turned, and grabbed at Campanile's neck, where his skin was exposed.

At the last moment however, Campanile turned, destabilized Amy with a short gravity pulse, and managed to hit her in the stomach, the time slowing effect giving him enough time to almost immediately pull back before dealing any actual damage.

As Panacea slowly fell to the ground in surprise, Hati dropped the effect, and I could feel my breathing and heartbeat return to normal.

Panacea gasped, taking a few seconds to catch her breath before talking.

"I thought I had you there," she said.

"So did I, probably a power thing, your mind working so fast your power can't keep up or something," Campanile replied. "Well fought," he said, holding out his arm to pull her up.

His new arm, I noticed. Panacea had been very helpful. Sadly, all Campanile had done in return was make jokes about playing the violin. The guy really took after Harry sometimes.

"Good fight," Murphy said. "Quick thinking on your part Campanile, but next time don't fall for the obvious bait. Next, Skitter, it's your first class, do you have any training?"

"Nothing official, but Grue taught me some," I replied.

"You use a baton right?" she asked.

"Yeah, that and a combat knife, besides my bugs," I replied.

"Good, here, catch," she said, walking to one of the weapon racks at the side of the room, and throwing me two fighting sticks. Knowing what was coming, I brought in some flies through the ventilation, and tried to have them land on her inconspicuously.

"You doing this on purpose?" she asked, noticing almost immediately. The tiny woman was rather good at her job.

"Proprioception, helps me keep track of people," I replied.

"Good, use them, you'll need all the help you can get in a fight, and people won't be able to take the time to remove them in a melee. Panacea, I presume you're still willing to help out with any training injuries?" she asked.

"If it means watching you kick Skitter's ass, then yes," she replied.

Yeah, this was going to be great.

I readied myself, getting ready for the fight against the tiny woman. A tiny woman I'd just watched kick the shit out of men several times her weight, and who wasn't in charge of the PRT's CQC training for no reason.

"Hati?" she said, and I suddenly felt my heartbeat and breathing slow down, giving me the time to think about my moves.

Almost immediately, I felt and saw Murphy come closer, and it was all I could do to bring up my fighting sticks.

I felt, more than heard, the quick _clack clack_ sound of sticks hitting sticks.

I pushed, and took a few steps back, creating more space between me and the instructor. Almost instantly, she reacted. I could feel her shift her feet with my bugs.

I prepared for her strike, the extra knowledge from my bugs telling me exactly where she was going to strike, and when she did, I was ready.

Which is what Murphy had expected me to do.

She'd attacked in such a way that best counter to her strikes would leave me open, and her leg kicked out, sweeping out for mine.

I could both see and feel her leg coming, but I wasn't fast enough, and she managed to throw me to the ground.

Falling in mid-air for what seemed like half a minute, I decided to counter by bringing up one of the sticks, striking out at her waist from the side.

I thought she hadn't seen it coming, but she quickly turned and countered it anyway, hitting me again before I'd even struck the ground, and countering my assault.

Then, she moved back, allowing me to stand back up again.

This time, I took the initiative, dashing forwards and striking out at range. She was stronger and more experienced, but also rather small. If I wanted to win, I'd have to use my reach, the same way Brian had used his superior size against me, back in the loft.

Of course, I'd been a novice back then, barely capable of punching someone without hurting myself more than my enemy. Lieutenant Murphy however, had like five different black belts, and it showed.

She stopped my attack perfectly, in a way that was probably exactly how they taught in textbooks.

 _Clack clack clack,_ the sticks went, and once again, I found myself on the floor.

For the second time, I stood up, and tried to think of a plan.

Reach didn't work, and I wasn't going to overpower her, nor was I going to be faster. Anything I'd try, she'd have seen a hundred times before.

Except for the things that made me unique. My powers, both of them. Magic wouldn't work, I was more likely to set the room on fire or blow up the lights than to actually disable my opponents, but my bugs would still work.

I went in again. This time, instead of staying at range, I went in close, close enough that she would have a hard time keeping track of all of my limbs, while my bugs would give me everything I needed to know about her movements.

I wasn't quite sure whether it was working, or she was just surprised at my recklessness, but I actually managed to get two hits in before she took control of the situation, predicting my moves using experience and speed instead of arthroproprioception.

After what felt like ages, I fell to the floor for the last time, this time at full speed, and I could hear the blood rushing through my veins at full speed.

There probably wasn't a part of my body that wasn't bruised and battered, but I actually felt like I'd learned something. Not enough to win, not by far, but maybe I wouldn't lose as heavily next time?

"Well fought, you almost had me a couple of times there," Murphy said.

Amy walked towards the two of us.

"I'm guessing you don't need any healing?" she asked.

"No, just a little tired, she's pretty good," Murphy replied.

"Well, you know the drill by now. Do I have permission?" she said, turning to me.

"Sure, go ahead," I groaned, feeling the sweet release of Panacea's power wash my wounds away. I had to admit, training with an expert like that, it was one of the neater perks of being a hero.

The wedding

*?*

The girl looked in the mirror, trying to figure out who exactly was looking back at her. The figure looking back at her had dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and lips that were thin, but not in a bad way.

That much was familiar.

The problem was, it didn't fit. First of all, the girl in the mirror was a bit too tall, courtesy of the murderously annoying heels on her feet. Her lips were a full red now, and her eyes were more curious than mischievous these days.

And her hair, her hair was the worst. Instead of hanging back, perhaps drawn into a ponytail, it was done up, fitted into a ridiculously complex array with gemstone-studded hairpins and an honest-to-god ancient hairnet that had apparently been in the MacFinn family for generations.

Also, scratch the bit about the hair being the worst. The dress was obviously the worst part. White, with lots of lace, and tight around the waist in a way that reminded her of a corset. At least it wasn't as bad as the stuff Tera was wearing; the wolf-woman had an actual veil and a ridiculous train behind her dress.

All in all, it was a rather ridiculous transformation for someone who, just over a month ago, had broken her way into the house of the lucky couple.

She heard the door open behind her, and in the mirror, she saw another woman enter. Older than her, about twenty or something like that, the woman was dressed much like she was, like a knock-off version of the bride.

"I thought it was the bride that was supposed to get cold feet?" Georgia asked. Tall, taller with the heels, and rail-thin, Georgia was one of the girls that Tera had taught how to become a werewolf. She studied psychology, and like all psychology students, she thought she was better at analysing people than she was.

"S'not the wedding," the girl replied. "S'what comes after."

"Ah… I'm guessing the paperwork came through?" Georgia asked.

"Yeah… My dad objected, but then he realized he'd been in jail for most of my life, and that he wouldn't get out for about twenty years. Then Tera's new job came in. Say what you want about them, but the PRT is pretty good at forcing its way through bureaucracy," the girl said.

Georgia walked towards her until she stood just behind the girl, one arm around her in what was probably supposed to be some sort of sisterly gesture. The girl had never had any big sisters, and her friends weren't really very good at the whole 'giving a shit' stuff, or at least they pretended not to be.

"Olivia, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. You know that right?" Georgia said.

"I know… it's just… it's all so final. It doesn't feel like the wrong thing to do, but I don't know…" Olivia replied.

"It's alright. It's a big step, both for you and for them. It would be weird if you didn't feel anything."

Olivia looked down at her feet, and the murderously tall heels they were hiding in. She could barely walk in them, and she was supposed to look like a graceful young lady later today. It was all completely ridiculous, but Harley had asked her, and she didn't really have any reason to say no.

"Anyway, I came here to tell you that the guests just started trickling in. Thought maybe you wanted to go talk to some of your friends before the ceremony starts," Georgia said.

"I'll think about it," Olivia replied.

With that, Georgia left again, giving her one final pat on the shoulder.

Olivia just stood there, looking at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out what was going to happen.

Her hands touched the sink, and she felt the metal basin through her power.

She could twist it, turn it, create a minion out of it, tear apart this entire farce and go completely wild.

Destroying things was easy, especially with powers.

Today, however, they were starting something new. Building something.

Building stuff was hard, she thought.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there, when the door behind her opened again.

This time, another girl entered the bathrooms, wearing a yellow dress, and actually managing not to fuck up walking with heels.

Grace, Katherine.

"So, fancy seeing you here Ol," Kat said.

"Same for you Kat, I don't remember inviting you," she replied, still slightly bitter.

"Not really, I mean, it's pretty normal to invite some co-workers to your wedding."

"It's also pretty normal to stick with your friends."

Kat walked closer, ending up right next to her, and they looked at each other through the mirror.

"Ol… You of all people should understand. It's just… us and them, we're different. We can do things, make a difference, all people like Molly and the rest can do at the stage we're on is play minion."

"So we just leave them behind?" Olivia asked.

"So we keep our distance. We make sure they're safe, and that they don't get involved. Don't lie, I know you've been doing the same fucking thing."

"Should you be cursing like that? I mean, what with your public image and all?"

"Me? I'm more worried about your habits. After all, you're the girl that's getting involved with old money here."

"They can take my words over my fucking corpse," Olivia said.

"That's more like it, that's the Ol I know," Kat said. "So, what're you going to do with your powers? You gonna join up?"

"They've got nothing on me, and if you tell on me, I'll tell on you."

"So that's a no, even though your new mom is-"

"Is going to join part-time, in case there's a situation where she can apply her power without any danger to her life," Olivia finished for her former friend. Current friend, whatever. Fellow cape, that would work as a descriptor.

"Anyway, you think you can leave the bathroom? The girls are waiting outside, waiting to shoot the shit one last time before you turn into a wealthy heiress," Kat said.

"Fine," Ol replied. "But it's your fault if I fall over in these heels. How do you even walk in them?"

"Powers, remember? Supernatural agility."

"Of course… guess I can't go storming in there on a minion huh?"

"Don't think so."

The two girls turned to leave the bathroom, walking slowly to make sure Olivia didn't fall over.

Outside, in the large wildflower garden that had been hired for the event, they spotted their friends, an array of rebellious teenage girls, dressed up all nice for the event. Most of them, even Grace now that she thought about it, had met the groom before. Of course, he'd been naked at the time, and furry, but that didn't really matter in the big scheme of things.

They'd been mingling, sort of. Two of them were talking to Bill, another werewolf and Georgia's boyfriend. Molly was talking to a boy, one that Olivia was quite sure was either Tecton, Wanton, or Annex. One of the wards anyway, this time out of costume.

Further away, she spotted some other individuals she knew. Tera, being a wolf and everything, hadn't had many human friends to invite, so they'd decided to bring just about everyone she knew. Olivia could spot Parian, or Sabah, wearing an almost impossibly fashionable dress and talking to an Asian lady. There was a ridiculously tall guy that could only be Campanile, and a slightly less tall but still really tall guy that was probably Myrddin, given the fact that he was wearing his amulet on top of his tie. He was talking to a Latina woman with a small notepad and an older Native American guy. There were two girls off in a corner somewhere, one of them with platinum blonde hair in braid, the other with long dark curls. Not part of her own posse, Olivia wondered who they knew. One of them, the blonde, was probably Cuff. Was the dark-haired gal the bug girl she'd heard about?

Her friends noticed her, and came closer, some of them making jokes, others patting her on the back, even more making fun of the stupid dress. It was okay, she was just happy they weren't getting eaten by wolves, literally.

Harley looked at her, and he was probably even more nervous than she was. In return, Olivia just smiled. Things would work out, probably.

The music started playing, and she saw the man's eyes start tearing up. In the meantime, she took a quick glance back, spotting the blushing bride, walking down the aisle. On two feet even, instead of four.

Instead of her father, who was probably off eating a moose somewhere, she was being escorted by the old Native American guy, who was apparently called either Joseph Listens-to-Wind or Injun Joe, depending on who you asked. He was some sort of big-time wizard, like Myrddin, but without being a superhero.

As the music ended, Tera ended up next to her husband to be. Harley turned, and looked at her, the nervousness melting from his face upon seeing her.

The minister, apparently someone Harvey had met through some sort of nature preservation program, and an ordained minister of the universal life church (a lot less impressive than it sounds) looked at them, and addressed the crowd.

"Beloved and Honored Guests: We are gathered here to witness the unison of these two people, as they give and receive their marriage vows. This is an important occasion of great significance, which is why I will not dally with long speeches."

The man paused for a second, and turned to Harley.

"Do you, Harley MacFinn, take this woman, Tera West, To be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love and honor, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her until death do you part?"

Harley smiled, and Olivia could see that he was looking at Tera, and Tera alone, mesmerized by those strange eyes of hers.

"I DO," he answered.

The minister turned, and this time, he spoke to Tera.

"Do you, Tera West, take this man, Harley MacFinn, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love and honor, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him until death do you part?"

"I DO," she answered.

The minister turned to the audience again.

"If there be anyone present who may show just and lawful cause why this couple may not be legally wed, let him speak now, or forever hold his peace."

Olivia looked at the audience, and saw a few eyes glance around, looking towards the guy she'd pegged as Myrddin. From what Kat had told her, half of the Wards had been afraid he'd cause some sort of shenanigans during the ceremony. Apparently, stuff usually went wrong when he was around. Not this time though, and the public kept silent.

Then, taking her cue, Olivia walked forwards a few steps,, and handed the couple their rings.

"Then, by the authority vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you man and wife. Sir, you may kiss your bride."

Harley didn't need to be told twice. In one smooth move, he ripped the veil from Tera's face, and gathered her in his arms, kissing her with wild abandon.

While they were kissing, and the crowd was ooh-ing and aah-ing, the minister motioned for Olivia to come closer as he was handling some paperwork.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out," he said.

"No, it's okay," Olivia replied.

The minister turned to the crowd again.

"Honored guests, before we continue on with the celebrations, there is one more thing that has to be done.

"Marriage is, in many cases, the first step towards the creation of a new family. In this case, too, is that what is happening.

"My old friend Harley however, was never one to let traditions bother him. Instead of waiting a couple of months, he and his wife have decided to start expanding their family today, and I have the paperwork here to make it all official," the man said.

Harley and Tera stopped kissing, and turned towards the location where Olivia and the minister were standing.

"If you would all sigh here, here, and here?" the man asked quietly, passing around the papers.

Olivia looked at the piece of paper, and what it meant. A way out, like she'd thought her powers would be. Only this time, it would probably work.

She signed, putting down the signature she'd spend half an hour refining that morning.

When everything was done, the minister motioned for the three of them to turn around, and spoke to the crowd again.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Harley, Tera, and Olivia MacFinn!"

*MacFinn*


	15. Chapter 12

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Chapter 12**  
* Hebert *  
India was weird, I decided. Or rather, India's bugs were weird.

Truthfully, they weren't. In fact, had I been born here, I'd probably think that American bugs were weird. Hell, it had taken me quite a while before I'd really gotten used to the small differences between Chicago and Brockton Bay.

New Delhi, or what remained of it, had roughly the same kind of bugs. crawlies, fliers, ants and spiders, the big differences were in what kind of species they were.

Which would have been a bigger deal if I actually had to use their abilities, instead of my own.

I focused my attention on the little focus I'd created with Harry's help. Mostly a practice tool, it consisted of a richly carved ball of hardwood, shaped to roughly resemble an eye, and small enough to carry in my utility compartment.

" _Deprehensio radiatus_ " I mumbled. The Latin was quite obviously incorrect, but apparently that didn't matter. After all, Harry managed to make Fliccum Biccus work. Instead, what mattered was that my mind was protected from the flow of magical energies, which somehow worked by speaking in shitty Latin, and would keep working until I started using shitty Latin in daily life.

I idly wondered if there were any old wizards that chose, say, English, as a language, back when French was the lingua franca. It would've sucked when everyone suddenly started speaking the language you're using to force the world to conform to your will.

Through the spell, I gained more awareness of the surrounding, giving me the ability to see sources of nuclear radiation, left behind by Behemoth's attacks. Then, I went into my mind, and looked for the connection that bound me to my bugs, purposefully channeling the energy of the spell through it.

It was still difficult to 'see' through my bugs. They didn't really have eyes the same way people have, and their other senses were different as well. Their new, magical senses however, were exactly the same as they were with me.

I moved my swarm around, making them form into markers wherever I located a source of radiation. Big hazard signs, made up out of ants and fireflies mostly.

In all honesty, I wasn't very good at helping out in this situation, I was just doing it because I had nothing else to do, given what had happened, the big shots needed some time to talk things over, and we probably wouldn't be heading back until much later.

I hadn't been very good at fighting Behemoth either. Somehow, I was even more mismatched against the herokiller himself. Thus, I'd had to stay on the back-line, helping coordinate the evacuation where I could. It had felt weird, seeing things suddenly turn around like that without being involved. Maybe that was how it felt for most people, after all, a single foot soldier generally wasn't the one turning the tide of the war. My activities back in Brockton Bay were the ones that were outside the norm, not my lack of effectiveness here.

Through one cluster of bugs, I saw the local radiation levels suddenly recede, and I spotted the cape responsible. I couldn't be quite sure before actually seeing him, but I was quite sure he was wearing an actual Zorro costume, flowing cape, sword, an old pistol, and a bandana with eye holes. He even wore a silly hat to complete the theme.

Interested and bored, I made my way through the ruined buildings, using my bugs to map out a good path.

Eventually, that led to me having a good view of the cape, as he was busy removing the radiation left behind in Behemoth's retreat.

Given what I was seeing, I was also quite sure he wasn't actually a cape, since he was using magic to do what he was doing. Although that depended on your point of view. In many ways, he was more of a cape than someone with parahuman abilities using them to, say, make pancakes.

He looked to be about my age, maybe a bit older, although the costume made it hard to guess. His outfit, rather than being completely black, like the classical Zorro costume, had a brown cape, colored in a way that reminded me a lot of the apprentice's robe Harry had provided me with, an itchy thing that, luckily, was for official Council events only. It made sense that he'd be wearing it. It was innocuous enough that those not in the know wouldn't look for anything behind it, and recognizable enough that anyone who knew about the White Council would be able to recognize him as an apprentice.

He had tanned skin and dark eyes, and from what I could see, his hair was just as dark. His features, what I could see of them at least, were Spanish, something which had probably been the reason behind his choice for the Zorro costume. He looked rather fit. Much like Brian, he had the body of someone that actually used his muscles, instead of the ridiculous stuff you sometimes saw on Brutes and Bodybuilders.

He turned, and I got a good look at his face. He seemed to be slightly in shock, something which could be explained by the fact that he was an apprentice, and probably just went through his first endbringer battle. Then, he started smiling and gave me a wave.

I gave him a short wave back, and made my way to him.

As I came closer he held out his hand in greeting. I obliged, holding it, when he stopped acting like a normal person. One hand behind his back, the other holding mine, he bowed forward, and kissed my fingers in a move that had been out of date a hundred years ago.

"Greetings, and a pleasure to make your acquaintance, young lady. My name is Ramir-" He stopped in the middle of telling me his name, he evidently did not have a lot of experience with secret identities. After a short second however, he recovered.  
"I am Zorroceror: Hero, magician, gentleman."

"I think you forgot drama major," I replied wryly."

"Ahhh, you wound me!" he replied, most definitely overplaying it when his hand clutched at his heart.

"So, you're the one cleaning up this stuff?" I asked him.

"Yeah, some simple water magic, it's not all that hard when you have all the time that you need. What about those bugs here? I've never seen anything like it," he replied. I wondered what he meant. Probably not the fact that I controlled them, or he would've simply assumed it was my power. Had he detected my little spell, and gotten confused, thinking I was using magic to control the insects?

"The bugs? That's my power, I'm just casting through them," I explained.

"Ahhh, I see!" he said, suddenly a bit more giddy. "Like Myrddin!"

"A bit like him yeah, I've only been learning magic for a few months though, and I don't really have the raw power he has," I replied.

Harry claimed that he was a special case, a powerhouse that had access to raw power that put him somewhere in the top five of White Council wizards. I wasn't quite sure whether or not to believe him, because the two other wizard's I'd met so far, Ebenezar McCoy and Injun Joe, hadn't really been representative of the Council as a whole either. Anyway, compared to those three, I was basically a toddler with a sharp knife.

Luckily, I had access to an army of miniature flying toddlers, each perfectly capable of carrying that knife. In addition to that, even my mental metaphors were feeling the effects of being around Harry too much. The man had a way of turning everything he came into contact with into absolute nonsense.

"You mean you actually know the guy?" Zorroceror asked.

"Know him? He's the idiot I have to learn from," I answered.

I wished I hadn't. At the mention of me actually knowing Myrddin, he got even more fan-boyish. Which wasn't something I'd expected from someone who knew magic himself. He kept asking me questions like _what's he like, can he really fly, has he ever banished you?_ that sort of thing.

"Skitter, by the way," I said, actually introducing myself.

"Zorroceror, as I already said. I'm not sure about the name, but the ladies love the costume that goes with it," he replied. I wasn't sure if I believed him or not. The costume and mannerism were kind of cute, sure, but cute and attractive were two very different things.

"First fight?" I asked.

"First time I've been able to convince my master that I would survive, and there were a few close calls. You?"

"Second, first was back home, Brockton Bay."

Hearing that, Zorroceror winced. "My sympathies then," he said.

"It was… different. I could actually do something against Leviathan. With Behemoth, I couldn't even bring my bugs close," I replied.

"I mostly stood in the back, shielding the blasters and trying not to get distracted by the fireworks," he said. "It was interesting, seeing all the people you only hear about in stories in action. The Triumvirate, the Senior Council, the Summer Lady, and I believe I even saw the Erlking. Not to mention what that girl did."

We walked through the half-torched streets, my bugs pointing him towards the largest pockets of radiation, and him removing it somehow. I wondered if, in the end, it would be enough. After all, there had been a lot of it thrown around at the end, and while most people had been shielded from its effects, the city itself had not been.

"Speaking of what happened, what did happen?" I asked him.

"I'm not sure. Everyone was failing to do much of anything. Capes, Wizards, supernatural creatures. They slowed him down, but that was it, they weren't actually hurting Behemoth. Stuff changed when this little glowing drone thing started talking to this cute girl with a crossbow, and I only know that because I was nearby at the time. Somehow, she was actually hurting it, the arrows going straight through. Once that information got out, a lot of big names showed up and started supporting her directly, all up until, you know, that," he said, pointing at a half-destroyed office building, marked by the fact that Behemoth's decapitated head was lying on top of it. I'd seen that much, and I'd seen the mad dash to safety Behemoth had gone for once that had happened, throwing around fire, lightning, and more obscure forms of attack that a theoretical physicist would have a field day with.

It hadn't been the first time an Endbringer had been driven off. It had, however, been the first time one of them had been damaged to such a degree, without everything turning to chaos while it was happening. Whoever had used telepathy to quickly organize everyone when Dragon's armbands had been destroyed was to thank for that.

"So, where are you from?" I asked.

"Small village on the west coast, my teacher isn't one for the big city," he replied.

"Anything exciting happening there?"

"Not really. We had a black court vamp coming through town last year, but that's it really. Nothing like Chicago."

"That's just lucky me. Out of the frying pan, and into Chicago. Did you know we actually had four different kinds of werewolf in town a few months ago?"

"I think I read something about that, something with a time-slowing naked wolf-lady?"

"Something like that. Turns out most magical shape-shifters don't take their clothes."

Our conversation was interrupted by what felt like a tiny metal sphere bumping into some of my bugs, followed by Tattletale's arrival. Her LED's had been destroyed, but the levitation mechanism still worked, and she was apparently still able to deliver it enough power to fly around like an idiot.

"Heya Skit," she said.

"Hi Tattletale, they finally let you go?" I asked her.

"Ehh, mostly. The Triumvirate did some sort of shady back-room dealing, and now they get to keep the severed head. They'll probably ask for my help, but there's enough biotinkers around that also want a go. Anyway, who's this?" she replied.

"Oh, this is-"

"Wait wait no, lemme guess, its more fun that way!" Tattletale interrupted me.

"Let's see, suave guy, cape, sombrero-like thing, actual eye-mask, gun and sword, in addition to what seems to be a staff, I'm thinking Wizzorro?"

"Shit, that's actually better, given the dirty joke potential. But no, it's Zorroceror. I believe you were Tattletale?" he replied.

"Yep, that's me. Tattletale, sexiest sort of ghost this side of the Atlantic. Only we're on the other side of the Atlantic right now. Does that still work? I mean, I haven't actually met all that many other ghosts, but I'm quite sure I'm the sexiest ghost period. Except maybe the ghost of Helen of Troy is hanging around somewhere, and I don't think I can measure up to her until someone launches a couple thousand battleships for me. On a completely unrelated note, Skitter, do you think you can get your hands on a battleship?" Lisa replied.

"Sexy ghost, you say?" Zorroceror asked.

"Hey, I may not look like much, but I'm wearing skintight spectral spandex under this thing!" Lisa replied.

"You know, I'm a lot more motivated to work at this whole wizard sight thing now," Zorroceror replied.

"Anyway, the first group of people is going back to Chicago in an hour or two. Revel wanted to know if you were going back or staying here to help out a bit more."

"What's everyone else doing?" I asked her.

"Revel, Myrddin, Hati and Panacea are sticking around for a bit, as are a few of the villains. The Scarlet Lady, Topsy, one of the guys from the Folk."

"Hati's staying? Didn't even know she came along" I said.

"She's giving the healers more time. Never joined the fight proper. Something about being pregnant I think."

"Already? The wedding was just a month ago."

"Well, Panacea's pretty good at diagnosing that sort of stuff, and I assume she's making sure there aren't any complications."

"Do you happen to know what Tim the Enchanter is doing?" Zorroceror asked.

"Tim the Enchanter? really?"

"Not everyone is as amazing at coming up with cape names as I am, and he loved that movie," he replied.

"Right, well, you'd have to ask someone else. All the wizardy types keep giving me the shifty eyes, probably because they believe I'll break down if I sneeze too hard."

"Why don't you?"

"Tinkertech, it's shielded from your hexings, rather ingeniously if I say so. Plus, it's not like I use most of the stuff in here. Only problem is Behemoth fried my wifi. Plus, no connection here anyway."

"So you're going to bother Cuff about bothering Tecton again?" I asked.

"Well, Panacea's not going to fix me, so yes!"

"There's gotta be a better way to do that..."

"Well, sure, yeah, but it's not like those are as funny as annoying Cuff about it."

"Just… try to make him keep the enchantments intact this time? I just know old Yoda is going to give me that task otherwise."

"You need the practice. I mean, come on, with a little more training you could be as cool as Zorroceror over here!"

"Well, not as cool as me, but I'm sure you could get close," he replied.

***

Unlike the trip to India, the trip back to Chicago wasn't done with a swanky teleporting cape. Instead, we were put on a big transport plane thing, courtesy of Dragon. She even told everyone it was shielded from powers that interfered with modern aviation technology, which made me very suspicious about how much she knew about magic.

There were quite a few people on board our flight. Chicago is a major travel hub, and most of them would spread out further on flights leaving from there.

That meant that this was one of the most dangerous planes in the history of humanity, with some of the stronger capes of the North-American continent on board.

I sat down in one of the seats, attached to the side of the transport, and Lisa promptly plonked down on my lap. She was tired, for lack of a better word. It was more like meditation than sleeping. She'd seen a lot of new and interesting things today, and her power had gone into overdrive, so she had to rest for a bit.

Before I could use my bugs to grab the attention of Cuff and a now one-armed Grace, someone sat down next to me. I looked at her, and saw that it was Miss Militia.

"Skitter, it's been a while," she said, her power having formed into a combat knife at her waist.

"About four months," I replied, trying to ignore her.

The last time I'd seen her, she'd been firing tinkertech bombs at Leviathan with some sort of special launcher. The time before that, she'd held a knife to Regent's throat, after which he promptly outmaneuvered her.

In other words, we weren't exactly on the best of terms.

"I heard you've been going at it alone, as a vigilante," she said.

"That's correct."

"Revel called me, a few days after you first appeared in Chicago. She wanted to know what you were like."

"What did you tell her?" I asked. Had Miss Militia been the one responsible for me not getting arrested the moment Harry recognized me?

I'd thought about sending her an email once, back when I'd first figured out that the Undersiders were working for Coil. I hadn't done so because of a fight with my dad, but perhaps I should have.

Then again, that would have meant selling out the rest of the Undersiders. Although, had they been in jail, they probably wouldn't have died in the attack.

"I told her you obviously had some heavy problems you needed to work through, but that I didn't think you were actually evil."

"Heavy problems?" I asked.

"On your first outing, you made Lung's crotch rot off. The second time around, you gouged out his eyeballs."

"That was perfectly reasonable," I replied. "If I hadn't taken them, he would've simply gotten up like nothing had happened afterwards."

Miss Militia looked at me, an inquisitive look in her eyes.

"I'm not saying it wasn't the right move, I'm saying that perfectly stable people don't generally go around gouging people's eyeballs out."

"And perfectly stable people don't start manhunts for newly triggered teenagers either."

She sighed. "You're talking about Hellhound."

"Her name was Bitch," I replied.

"Look, I don't like what happened there either, but I wasn't involved in it. The Protectorate, like almost anything, isn't perfect, but that doesn't mean that there's nothing good there. Fighting corruption and bad decisions is just part of the job."

"And every time you go on patrol, you grant legitimacy to all the assholes flying the same flag."

"So you hang out with them, without actually joining."

"So I hang out with the people I want to hang out with, instead of following the commands of an asshole like Armsmaster because the government wants me to."

"Well, I guess we have very different ideas about the role of legal authorities."

"I guess we do," I replied.

We sat there in silence for a bit longer, the transport ship lifting up on softly humming anti-gravity generators, then accelerating, moving at what seemed to be a rather high speed, judging by the rate at which bugs were moving in and out of my range.

I looked around the transport, trying to figure out who was who. I recognized Chevalier, who had just returned from what seemed to be the cockpit. I wondered if Dragon was in there, or simply steering from her home in Canada. It was generally known that she almost never left her laboratory, instead choosing to work from her home, using remote-control vehicles.

I also recognized Weld, a rather famous monster cape. He was made purely out of metal, which made him a veritable tank. I wondered for a bit whether he was truly a case 53, the official name the PRT gave the monster capes, or some sort of metal spirit pretending to be a teenage boy.

Also made out of metal, but the polar opposite of media-darling Weld, was Hookwolf. Apparently, the crazy motherfucker had survived, even without the rest of the Empire Eighty-Eight to back him up, and he'd come to fight Behemoth. Interesting was that he seemed to be carrying some new gear, like a pair of belts slung around his shoulders like a gunslinger, which included some rather diverse weapons. A silver dagger, a vial of what I presumed was holy water, a crucifix and what I presumed were actual heads of garlic.

Thinking back to what Rune had told me, Hookwolf had been the one taking care of the Empire's supernatural opponents. Given his general character, he'd probably been overzealous, which explained why I hadn't ever seen any vampires or anything like that in the Bay. It made even more sense when you thought about the background of their organization. The Empire consisted of Neo-Nazis. The actual Nazis, back during the second world war, had famously been borderline obsessed with the supernatural, hoping to find some sort of Wunderwaffen, miracle weapon, by checking out old stories and myths. Legend had it that Hitler was in the possession of the very spear that had stabbed Jesus on the cross, and Aleph cinema was absolutely filled with vampire Nazis and other such things.

Did that mean that, horrible a person as he was, Hookwolf had used his specific skills and knowledge to protect Brockton Bay from supernatural predators? His Changer form, sturdy and made out of what seemed to be steel, was most definitely useful for that purpose. Hell, if it was close enough to iron to count, he alone could have been enough to keep the fair folk out of Brockton Bay. Given the fact that Kaiser's predecessor had actually called himself Allfather, I couldn't help but wonder about how much that man had known. Sure, Nazis were known to be into Norse mythology, but what if Allfather had actually been into Norse mythology?

Eventually, I figured out that I wasn't going to recognize anyone else. Half the people in the plane were like Zorroceror, this probably being one of their first outings as a cape, the others I dimly thought I'd maybe dimly recognized from a news reel somewhere, but not famous enough for me to know their names or powers.

Speaking of the devil, I saw Zorroceror sitting next to an older English-looking man, who had to be Tim the Enchanter, enthusiastically telling stories about the fights, and pointing to me.

"Someone you know?" Militia asked, looking up from the magazine she had been reading. I wished I had been smart enough to pack something for just this kind of situation.

"Met him after the fight, he's nice enough," I replied. "Bit of a Casanova though."

"Oh?" she asked, questioning.

"Not like that. He was more interested in Tattletale anyway."

"So, what happened there?" she asked, motioning towards Tattletale.

"She died, then she came back as a ghost somehow, pretty similar to Glaistig Uaine's power. Myrddin did something to give her a body again."

"And now she lives out her life in a tiny metal shell? I never liked her, but I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"Not necessarily? I mean, she can go out whenever she wants to, that just makes it harder to affect the world, what with her not having a body and everything."

"Is there any reason she needs to have this body? I heard Dragon has been looking into lifelike android bodies," she said.

"It's an option, I guess, although I'd just ask Panacea instead. And I'm pretty sure she's enjoying the ability to fly, as well as the lack of headaches."

As I said that, I felt something shift again, the transport plane suddenly slowing down. According to the screen hanging above the door to the cockpit, we were almost arriving back in Chicago.

***

As I left the transport, I saw Cuff waving to me, standing next to Shuffle and Dovetail, who had been waiting for us to land.

I made my way towards them, hoping to catch up with Ava. I'd lost track of her early on in the fighting, and Militia's little conversation had stopped me from talking to her in the transport.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," she replied.

"Skitter, can you gather all the locals here with your bugs?" Shuffle said.

"Just the white hats, or?" I asked him, placing Lisa's metal body in my utility compartment while scouting out everyone with my bugs.

"As long as we're still under the truce, gather everyone. I don't like it, but we need all the help we can get."

He was obviously stressed out, something had happened in the night that we'd been gone, fighting Behemoth. I grabbed the attention of everyone I recognized as being from Chicago by flying a bunch of flies into their face, then drawing a line of arrows towards our current position.

"Also, something wrong with Tattletale?" he asked.

"She's tired, her power was overclocking during the fight and afterwards.

"That's too bad, we could've used her with the current situation."

"Which is?"

"I'll explain in a minute, I don't want to have to repeat stuff."

Quite soon, we were joined by Grace, Snaptrap, Glory Girl and Chubster, as well as Topsy, Crimson Blade, The Temptress and Genoscythe. Revel, Myrddin, Panacea, Hati and Tecton were staying in New Delhi, while Wanton and Annex were probably still at their headquarters.

"What's the matter?" Genoscythe asked.

"What's the matter is that someone took advantage of half the people leaving town to fight Behemoth, and a possible incoming kill-order," Shuffle said.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Someone killed about a dozen innocent people, in a manner that was obviously not normal. The really problematic part was that whoever did it was being ritualistic about it. Candles, diagrams drawn in blood, the whole shebang. Given when it happened, and that it doesn't look like they'll be stopping anytime soon, Director Heathrow declared a temporary state of emergency." Shuffle said.

"For you," he continued, looking at the assembled villains. "That means that we won't have the time to deal with you, and will have to ignore you as long as you don't do anything overly illegal. Of course, if you have any information regarding the perpetrator, we would be happy to reward you for your co-operation."

"A truce then, I'll inform my friends in the Folk," Topsy said.

The rest of them murmured similar things, after which they dispersed, probably to tell the rest of their friends about the current situation.

"As for the rest of you, be careful. Creeps like this don't suddenly become less lethal in an actual fight. Furthermore, according to Heathrow's analysis, he, or they, or even she, will probably escalate. That means the next target could very well be one of us. So keep everyone informed, and try not to go anywhere on your own until we know more. This guy isn't playing by the rules, and our most experienced people are still out of town. Don't do anything stupid, don't go out on your own, try not to get killed," he said, his words somewhere between advice and orders.

"Sounds like a bit of an overreaction. I mean, it's not like this is the Slaughterhouse or something like that," Glory Girl said quietly. "Seems like a bit of a stretch to say whoever's responsible is going after us."

"In all honesty, I agree with you," Shuffle said. "But director Heathrow insists on taking every possible precaution. He was being evasive when I asked him what his sources were, but he insisted on whoever did this being dangerous."

"Besides that, anything that stands out? What are we watching out for?" I asked.

"Given the theatrics of it all? The simplest way to classify our perp is as Myrddin's wannabe evil twin. Circles drawn in blood, pentagrams, what seemed to be an honest-to-god robe, that sort of thing," Shuffle replied.

That, everything considered, was rather disconcerting. The last few months, Harry had mostly focused my apprenticeship around the movement of energies, the basics of using magic. I could infuse circles with my will to hold off both matter and energy, I could, with some effort, gather more metaphysical information with my senses, and I could light candles with my mind, and all of that through my bugs. I could even perform a tracking spell of sorts, triangulating someone's position by establishing a magical connection. He hadn't had the time to tell me about the larger dangers of the supernatural world, except a short introduction to the bigger players. Vampires, faeries, that sort of stuff. What he had gone into even less was black magic. Maybe he was uncomfortable with the topic, maybe he didn't know all that much about it, or maybe he just wanted to shield me from what it was. I hadn't thought much of it, since I'd been busy getting my head around getting my head around spells, meditation, and other such things.

I knew black magic was based around the darker emotions, that it could include stuff like tearing someone's heart out at a distance, and that it had a sort of stench to it. I'd also gathered that, in the context of ritual murder, it was believed to be possible to increase one's own power by taking that of another. I wasn't sure if that was true, although Harry would probably know, but it would explain the ritual murder.

Furthermore, if what Shuffle had said was true, and whoever was responsible was coming after parahumans next, I could guess what he was going for. I had no idea if it would work, but I suspected that whoever our enemy was thought that by, for lack of a better word, _eating_ a parahuman, he could take their powers for himself.

Given that that was exactly how Glaistig Uaine seemed to work, it wasn't even all that unlikely.

"You know… I'm actually kind of happy that Amy is still in India," Glory Girl said, talking to me instead of the entire group.

"Afraid she'll get hurt?" I replied.

"Sort of, maybe. She used to have stalkers, people going after her to get healed, there was even a maniac that thought he could claim her powers by circling her three times while shouting his name. Judas will protect her, even though her clothes will probably get soaked with drool. Thing is, I just keep worrying anyways, she just keeps getting into trouble. I mean, she'd be going to the bank and BAM, she's caught up in a robbery and hitting supervillains in the face with a fire extinguisher."

"Ha ha," I replied dryly.

"So, about this not going out on your own thing," Glory Girl asked, looking at me with a mischievous look in her eyes.

"What about it?" I asked, although I'd had some ideas about what she was going to say. It wasn't really too hard to figure it out.

"I'm not sure about you, but I'm not planning on hiding like a little child while a murderer is tearing through my new home, and I'm pretty sure you agree with me on that," she said, slowly, I felt my admiration for her rise, although I wasn't quite sure if that was because of her pro-activeness, or just a side-effect of her aura kicking up a notch in anticipation.

"Are you going where I think you're going with this? Because I know a journalist without a sense of self-preservation that could help us out," I answered

"Good," she replied, smiling.

We were interrupted by someone else walking towards us. Not one of the locals, but someone I'd expected to leave on one of the connecting flights.

"So, I heard you've got a Warlock in town," Hookwolf stated, talking to Shuffle.

"And you are?" he asked.

"Hookwolf. A Nazi, a murderer, and an all-around savage. Used to be part of the Empire Eighty-Eight," Glory Girl said.

"Don't forget the fucking dog-fighting," I added in.

"Means towards a worthy end," Hookwolf replied. "Is it murder to kill vampires? to slaughter your way through ghouls and the unseelie?"

"So you're a murderer and a loonie, whoop-die-fucking-doo," Glory Girl said sarcastically.

"You're here to help with our target?" Shuffle asked.

"I live for the hunt. You give me an acceptable target, and I'll take him down," Hookwolf said.

"You can't seriously be entertaining this guy's proposal? He's a murderer, not a superpowered corner-store thief!" Victoria said.

"Me? No, I don't want to accept his help, but I'm not the guy in charge, and given how serious director Heathrow is taking this, I'm willing to bet he'll take any help he can get," Shuffle replied.

"Even if your little cure is just as bad as the problem?" Victoria asked.

"If the cure turns out to be worse than the disease, then I'm happy I'm not the one calling the shots," Shuffle said. "If the boss wants it, then the boss can take the blame if things go wrong."

"Bullshit!" Glory Girl exclaimed.

"Hush child, the adults are talking," Hookwolf replied.

"Oh go fuck yourself. You're not some misunderstood edgelord like fucking Shadow Stalker, you're a fucking Nazi!" she yelled back. Given her background, the way her family worked, I could kind of understand her point of view. New Wave, after all, didn't have civilian oversight to hide behind if things went wrong. It reminded me of my conversation with Miss Militia, and it wasn't a conflict that was going anywhere.

Then again, I couldn't help but think about the temporary alliance we'd had against the ABB. Hookwolf had been part of that as well, although Kaiser's selfish behavior had almost gotten us killed against Lung. Plus, there was the very Endbringer fight we had just returned from.

"Come on, let's go, no use talking to men like him," I said, pulling on Victoria's arm. "Besides, we have a criminal to track down. Can I borrow your phone? I need to call someone."

As we walked away, Victoria handed me her phone. Then, hoping my techbane aura didn't destroy it instantly, I dialed the number of my teacher's girlfriend. We had a warlock to catch, and a scoop to get.


	16. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"So what's the plan?" Vicky asked, as I led her towards the airport lockers.

"Gather information, track down the bad guy, then take him down?" I replied, as I punched in the code of my locker, desperately hoping that the electronic system wouldn't explode on me.

"You do know that that's not actually a plan, right? I mean, It's the steps of a plan, but it's not a plan," she said as she snuck a look at the contents of my locker.

This locker, unlike my last one, wasn't filled with filth from Emma and her cronies. Instead, it contained a shirt, a hoodie, comfy sweatpants, and a backpack to stash my costume in.

"Mind watching my back while I change?" I asked.

"Sure, but, aren't you afraid people will recognize you if you're in your civvies with me?"

"Good point, can you change into civvies?" I asked her.

"Skits... I'm internationally renowned for having a public identity."

"Internationally? You mean you've got horny European teenagers following you on Twitter?"

"You get what I mean," Victoria pouted. My assumption had probably been correct. Still, Vicky prided herself on her popularity, and the few times that we'd stopped a crime together, she'd insisted it wasn't a real capture unless we put a selfie online with the caught criminal in the background. She'd been mostly kidding, but only mostly.

"Look, this is Chicago, not the Bay. Put on a hoodie or something and you're just as invisible as everyone else. The only way anyone would recognize you is if you start flying around all of a sudden."

"Oh great, now you're telling me I can't just float everywhere. You're not my mom!" she replied with a grin on her face. It took a while before she realized what she just said.

"Now, as for the plan, I'm afraid I'm going to have to start by feeding the cat," I said, quickly changing the topic.

"You have a cat?" she replied, turning her mood around again.

"Not my cat, Myrddin's. I promised him I'd take care of it," I said.

"Oh, right, you're buddies with Myrddin. How'd that happen?"

"Long story short? I live with his girlfriend."

"Myrddin has a girlfriend? I thought he was dating Chevalier!" she said, outraged.

"Why does everyone think that?" I asked.

"Internet? Plus, Chevvy hints it hard. Last month, there was an interview in this magazine about medieval arms, and he spent half the time talking about King Arthur and the sword in the stone, and there was a Myrddin poster in the background of his office, lots of subtle stuff."

"Trust me, he's not dating Chevalier. And if he were, don't you think they would've lived in the same place? I mean, Philly and Chicago? That's more than six hundred miles, and neither of them can teleport."

"I'm not saying they're dating, I'm just saying, you know, friends with benefits? Anyway, doesn't matter, we've got a cat to feed, and clothes to shop for."

Holding the backpack of clothes, we made our way to a quiet part of the airfield, where Victoria held watch while I was changing. I took my costume, armor pieces, and a sleeping Lisa, and put them in the backpack again.

"Meet you at Fugly Bob's in an hour?" I asked. That would give me the time I needed to get to Harry's place, do what I needed to do, and give Mister some much needed attention.

"Sure, I'll go get some clean clothes first. These are all... well, you know," she said, motioning towards her once pristine white costume, now covered in ash, dust, scorch-marks and what might have been blood.

***

I made my way down the stairs leading to Harry's apartment, and carefully went through the wards attached to his threshold, the natural magical barrier around just about every home. I had an amulet that would temporarily deactivate them, letting me through in case I needed to be there to, say, try my hands at making a potion and/or explosion again. Or in this case, feed Mister and ask Bob for help.

Bob was Harry's skull. Not in the sense that he was a body part, but in the sense that it was a skull that Harry owned, that contained an old spirit of intellect. Spirits of intellect were, apparently, some sort of magical version of Lisa's power, and Bob served as Harry's magical assistant when he wasn't leering at pictures of naked women, or failing at flirting with Lisa. He knew almost everything about magic, and had no sense of morality to go with it. That was why Harry had told me not to depend on him too much. Knowledge, magical knowledge, could be dangerous if it wasn't tempered by experience.

Of course, it probably wasn't as dangerous as a Warlock running around eating people's souls or whatever they did.

As I opened the door, I was promptly thrown on my face by a massive cat bowling its way through my legs. I still wasn't sure why Harry found that endearing, maybe it was because he had a more stable stance.

Normally I would've seen it coming through my bugs, but no matter how messy Harry's apartment got, the tiny furry murder machine kept it entirely clean. That and Harry made sure there weren't any cockroaches to break his magic circle and eat his ghost dust.

"Hey Mister," I greeted the cat, which was now patting at my backpack.

Cats had some sort of strange supernatural property that allowed them to, amongst other things, see ghosts. As such, Mister had probably noticed a sleeping Lisa, and wanted to order her around in the way that cats did.

I made my way through the mess that Harry called an apartment, found the bag of cat food, and filled up Mister's food bowl. Mister walked over, dutifully ignoring his servants for the duration of the meal. In the meantime, I made my way downstairs into Harry's laboratory, which was located in a sub-basement, just below the basement that was Harry's apartment.

A small concrete box, it contained a few racks of odds and ends Harry used for magic, an elaborate circle he used for summoning creatures of the Nevernever, a table that Harry told me contained a special project he was working on that I most definitely shouldn't touch. It looked like a toddler's shitty arts and crafts project, but Harry insisted it would be 'really cool' once it was done.

There was also a small cauldron, as well as a tiny desk with some books on it that I'd been using to try and independently create a potion, closely supervised by a Dresden that was too busy playing around with his little whatever it was going to be. I grabbed the one potion that wasn't a failure. Bob had called it an escape potion, but it was actually closer to a potion of teleportation, allowing me to escape into a random direction upon drinking it. The idea being that, in the case that an enemy Brute made his or her way to my real body, I'd drink it, and we'd start all over again.

"Hey Bob, you there?" I asked, and the lights in the eye of the skull lit up.

"Morning Taylor," Bob replied, reminding me that I hadn't slept for an entire night.

"We've got a problem and I need your help."

"What is it? Do you need someone to unhook your bra? Because I think I can help with that."

"Really Bob, really? I thought you were supposed to be based on Harry's personality."

"Well, yeah, when he picked me up. And he was a horny teenager back then. It's not my fault I'm like this, I can't help it!"

"Good excuse. Anyway, I'm talking about a real problem. I think there's a Warlock around and I need to know what to do."

"Well, if it's a guy, you should put on one of this tight tops you see in the movies, more your hips a little, maybe put on some of that black make up like you see on those suicide girls, and last but most certainly not least, put out."

"What?" I asked, my mouth hanging open.

"Well, I mean, he's not going to teach you for no reason, and I'm pretty sure you don't have enough money to pay for that kind of stuff."

"I'm trying to take him down Bob! Not whatever you're fantasizing about!"

"Ohhh, that does make more sense. Sorry, I'm bad at this morality stuff. Anyway, are you sure about that? I'm sure there's lots of stuff he could tell you that Harry wouldn't."

I thought about it for a second. Did I want knowledge about stuff that, when you did it, actually corrupted your soul and made you more evil? Probably not. Then again, that was what I was asking Bob about.

"Look, just give me the basics Bob, what should I be expecting?"

"Dunno, what do you know about him?"

"Shuffle said the Warlock murdered a group of people in some sort of ritualistic fashion, Myrddin's evil twin, he called it. The PRT thinks he might be going after parahumans next, but I don't know why they think that." I explained.

"Sounds like some sort of sacrifice thing. Dark magic, eating people to get stronger, but I don't know why he would be going after parahumans specifically."

"Why?" I asked him.

"Well, on the face of it, it makes sense. Parahumans are stronger than most people, so eating their essence makes you stronger than eating a normal human," Bob said.

"Yeah, makes sense in some twisted fucked up kind of way. Like getting experience in a video game or something."

"Except it doesn't," Bob said. "Think about it."

I pondered what Bob said, wishing Lisa wasn't sleeping. She'd have this entire thing puzzled out in a jiffy.

"This is about the thing isn't it? The way everything doesn't match up because powers aren't magical. From a magical perspective, parahumans and humans are basically interchangeable outside of the little brain connection," I said, my mind quickly figuring out why none of this made sense. "So, if they're interchangeable, why pick a target that can actually fight back? And why does the PRT think that he's going after a parahuman next?"

"Exactly, I mean, from a magical perspective, that little brain pokémon of yours is basically inanimate," Bob said.

"Except we know that's not true," I replied. "Because of Lisa."

"Good point," Bob said. "Lemme think for a second. Lisa's brain-computer thingy got attached to her, then they merged together, and when Lisa died, it was like losing an arm or a leg, instead of wholly dying. And usually, for whatever reason, nothing comes of that, but in the case of Lisa, it reconnected with her ghost, creating some sort of soul-ghost-power amalgamation that's both alive and dead at the same time."

"I think that's about right."

"And that doesn't make sense, because there's not supposed to be any magic outside of Earth Bet and the Nevernever, and we're pretty sure that powers are located outside of Earth Bet," Bob theorized.

"Except we know from Lisa's existence and Harry's power that it is possible for magic and souls and things like that to exist there, although it has to come from this universe," I added. "So, what if there's a parahuman with a good connection, like Lisa used to have, and the Warlock eats them, for lack of better words. Except, instead of just gobbling up the human part, he uses that connection to make sure he eats the power too.

"Except…if it's that easy, why hasn't anyone done that before?" I concluded.

"Because no-one knew what to look for, and those in the magical community who knew about how powers work were also convinced that it wouldn't be possible," Bob explained. "At least until Tattletale appeared."

"So, any idea what will happen if they eat the entire parahuman?" I asked, a doom scenario unfolding in my head.

"Best case scenario? Absolutely nothing. Worst case scenario? They gain access to all the abilities that the parahuman had. Absolutely even worse scenario? Something involving second trigger stuff and even more nonsensical abilities. Honestly, I don't know, and I'd like to figure it out," Bob said.

"Except that that would be wrong, because someone would be dead," I replied.

"Well, yeah, sure. I mean, if you look at it like that. But come on, aren't you the least bit interested?"

"A little… But, not enough to let someone die. In the meantime, do you have any idea who might be behind this?" I asked.

"Not really. We can narrow it down a bit, as there's a limited pool of individuals that have access to the reports Harry sends to the White Council, but even then, most of the factions in the Unseelie Accords are probably aware of Tattletale's status by now. And they wouldn't do this themselves, they'd set up a cat's paw to try it out first. If their guy spontaneously explodes, they know not to try it themselves."

"So all things considered. We've got exactly nada. Any other advice?"

"Leave it to someone else? I mean, it's not like he's coming after you specifically," Bob suggested.

I thought about it for a bit. Leaving it to the professionals. I quickly dismissed the idea. I wanted to be a hero, a real hero. Not someone that plays bait and gets to spend half a week in the hospital while everyone else is fighting, not just some street patrols.

***

"You're lucky, I just opened," Bob said. This Bob, however, wasn't a disembodied skull with glowing lights in his eye-holes. No, instead, this Bob was someone who could only be described as, well, fucking ugly. Which was probably why it was called Fugly Bob's. He was also fat though, so maybe it was meant to stand for Fat and Ugly instead.

"Oh? I thought you opened at eight?" Victoria asked, looking at the extraordinarily fat man.

"Normally, yes, but something came up last night, and I was up all night," he replied, giving her a wink.

"Tay? what do you want? I'm getting a Challenger and a coke," she asked.

"Two Challengers. One of them to go," I replied. I hadn't eaten much since I'd heard Behemoth was going to attack, and I could eat a whole zebra. Or maybe even a Challenger. As for the other burger, I had some plans for that.

"You sure? You're awfully skinny, and they're not for amateurs," Vicky said.

"I thought you were the one always watching her figure?" I replied while we were sitting down in one of the booths at the window. The same booth where I'd first met Harry, coincidentally.

"Common misconception, having a great figure is one of my side-powers."

"I honestly have no idea if you're kidding or not," I said.

"Long story short, It's probably something with my flying and stuff. I mean, I have to actively remember to walk around and stuff, and I don't really burn calories to the same extent normal people do. I don't get tired while flying."

"So, logically speaking, you should be fat," I said.

"Yep, but I've got some sort of side-power that stops that from happening. Just like how I can breathe underwater or touch people trough my forcefield. Lots of little stuff that makes sure I don't fall apart using my powers."

"I've got something similar going on with my brain," I told her. "Extended multitasking so that I can actually keep track of all the thousands of bugs I've got flying around. By the way, the kitchen here? Surprisingly clean for a fast food joint."

We were interrupted by Bob plonking down two ridiculously large burgers in front of our faces, as well as a bag with a third. I looked at mine with apprehension. That thing was way larger than I remembered it, and Harry would have a field day with that thought if he could read my mind.

"Showww" Victoria mumbled through her stuffed mouth, "Whas exphfwha buwghwer fwhor?"

"It's a bribe," I replied, taking care to speak in between bites, rather than during.

"I knew this city was corrupt, but can you actually buy people with burgers here?" she asked, her mouth empty for a second.

"Not talking about people," I clarified, although, given the reach that men like Marcone seemed to have in Chicago, she probably wasn't entirely wrong with her remark.

"Show fwho ar u bwibingh?"

"Promise not to laugh?" I asked. If Vicky reacted the same way I'd done to the upcoming revelation, we would have a problem.

"Pfwhomise," Vicky said, before taking a sip from her drink.

"I'm going to ask a faerie to go scouting for us," I said.

Vicky replied by doing a literal spit-take, Coke and bits of burger flying out of her mouth and nose, and I couldn't help but laugh at it. Eventually, about a minute later, Victoria spoke up again.

"That's a good one, but really, what's the deal with the extra burger?"

"Eat your burger, I'll show you after," I replied.

***

Victoria looked skeptically at the circle of silk I'd had my spiders prepare in the alley behind Fugly Bob's while we had been eating.

"You know, I think you've been hanging out with Myrddin a little bit too much," she said.

"You don't know half of it, just watch," I replied while putting a tiny container of coffee milk in the circle, next to the toast with honey. That was the lure, once he'd had a taste, I'd wow my target with the burger, and he'd do whatever I asked of him, just like my bugs did.

"Toot-Toot, Toot-Toot, Toot-Toot," I spoke.

"So crazy really is contagious… Too bad Amy doesn't do heads, because something is obviously wrong with yours."

"Just hide behind this dumpster with me will you?" I said, pulling her with me to the rather bad hiding spot.

Before she could continue insulting my sanity, a small orb of blue light, sort of reminiscent of Tattletale's new form, dropped from the sky, into the circle. It transformed into a six inch tall man with a skirt made out of a leaf, purple hair, and four butterfly-like wings on his back. He promptly started munching on the prepared food.

The moment he was properly inside of the circle, I put some energy into it, locking the dewdrop fairy inside of it.

"The fuck is that!" Vicky yelled.

"That's Toot-Toot. He's a dewdrop faerie," I replied.

"YOU!" Toot yelled, finally noticing us. He flew forwards, crashing straight into the barrier of my spidersilk circle.

"You tricked me!" he yelled.

"To be fair, you're really easy to trick," I replied.

"I should've known you can't be trusted! You're just like Harry, always wanting something done! I'll tear out your hair and fill your ears with bedbugs!"

"And just like Harry, I'll give you something in return for your help," I stated calmly, walking towards him.

"Pfft, sure, if it was a fair deal, you wouldn't need to bind me in a circle!"

"If I didn't bind you in a circle, you'd run the moment you saw me," I said. Although I had to admit I hadn't actually tried it without a circle.

"So, is he real?" Vicky asked.

"He is standing right over here lady!" Toot-Toot yelled. "I am Toot-Toot the mighty, scourge of Chicago! I am he to whom heroes are beholden! Fear me!"

"What's he talking about?" Vicky asked.

"Wanton and Annex keep feeding him pizza because they think he's funny, it's gotten into his ego," I replied.

"Noodle is an honorable man and I will not have you besmirch his name! Let me out and fight me! I will rip your eyes out of your skull!" Toot yelled.

"Wait, he thinks that Noodle is the real name?" Vicky asked.

"We're getting off track guys," I stated. "Toot, there's a Warlock going around killing people with black magic. Can you help us track down where people have been doing anything like that in the city?"

"I'm not an errand boy Taylor, now let me out or I'll put salt in your tea!" Toot replied, giving me the first threat that actually scared me a little.

"You know, he's so small, he's probably not good enough to do anything like that," Vicky said with a smile on her face.

"Sure I could, wouldn't take me more than an hour!"

"Very well then Toot. Now, if you promise to do that for me, I'll give you this," I said, unveiling the Challenger.

Toot's mouth dropped open as he gazed at the burger. "What's that?" he asked.

"This is the Fugly Bob's Challenger. Containing over three thousand kilo-calories per serving, it used to be the single largest item on the menu in any and all Brockton Bay restaurants, and it only came to Chicago recently," I explained.

"It has pickles, cheese, meat, tomato, more meat, five different sauces, lettuce, bacon, a five-part bun, mushrooms, onions and egg, topped off with another slice of meat. One of these, and you can fly around for a week, I guarantee it," Vicky said, lifting off the ground.

Toot-Toot's jaw dropped again when he saw that. "Where are your wings?" he asked.

"Wings? Don't need them," Vicky replied, fully applying her aura. I wasn't quite sure whether it would have any effect on whatever went through for Toot's brain, but he was impressed anyway.

"So, you need to know where people have been using black magic?" Toot asked. "I don't know… the city is rather big for just me."

"You know what," Vicky said, having fully taken over the conversation, "If you get any of your faerie friends or whatever to help, then I promise I'll buy each and every one of them a Challenger too."

"Vicky, you don't know what you're saying. Faeries are small, but there's a lot o-"

"Deal, now lemme out!" Toot yelled.

"Fine, fine, Tay, how do I break whatever this is?" Vicky asked.

"Just apply some force to break the circle, it's not strong or anything," I replied. "But you just made a promise to him, so you better keep to it. They won't forgive you if you don't."

Vicky let Toot out of the circle, and the little dewdrop faerie started munching on the massive burger, eating it almost as quickly as Vicky had.

"Aww, he can't be that bad. I mean, come on, he loves Challengers!" Vicky replied.

"Supervillains like Challengers too you know," I said.

"Wait really? Damn, didn't think of that. Still, the Undersiders weren't that bad, except for Tattletale I guess. Where is she anyway?"

"Sleeping in my backpack. I think it's some sort of analogue to Thinker headaches for ghosts," I replied.

"So, she's really a ghost isn't she? Not some sort of Glaistig Uaine type deal or anything like that, but an actual, honest-to-god ghost."

"Yeah… It's a bit more complicated, stuff with her power and things like that, but basically yes."

"And that's an actual faerie, not some sort of projection or anything like that," she stated matter of factly.

"Yeah, that's correct."

"You're a projection!" Toot yelled.

"Toot, I'm pretty sure you don't even know what a projection is," I interjected.

"Do know! It's when, well, it's when you're like her!" Toot yelled.

"Careful Toot, you're talking about the woman that promised you more burgers," I said.

"Yep, so you should probably hurry and find the baddies!"

"Going, going!" Toots yelled, flying away and disappearing around the corner.

"So… When Myrddin claims he's a wizard?" Glory Girl asked.

"He's speaking the truth," I replied.

"Sorry Tay-Tay, but I'm not buying it," she said, although her facial expression wasn't as skeptical as her words.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well, for one thing, he doesn't have a beard. All wizards have beards," she replied.

"Really? That's your problem with this entire thing?"

"Well, I've seen enough crazy shit to buy the rest of the whole magic shit, but a wizard without a beard? I mean, come on… everyone knows wizards have beards."

"They're also supposed to be wise old men, not silly idiots in their twenties."

"I guess you have a point… Still kind of bummed about the beard thing though."

"Ehh, I'll introduce you Ebenezer if he's ever in town. He's old, grumbly and bearded."

"So… given by what I've been seeing today, I have to ask..." Vicky said.

"What now?" I asked, expecting something just as inane as the previous comment about Harry's lack of beard.

"Where's your beard?" she asked, completely confirming my expectations.

I groaned, and slapped my palm against my forehead. "Why would I have a beard?"

"Well, just like a five-o-clock shadow or something? I mean, I obviously don't expect you to have a Dumbledore style monstrosity yet, but you gotta start somewhere right?"

"I don't even know how to respond to that," I replied.

"Well, it's either that, or you get yourself a crazy hat and a broomstick."

"What gave it away?" I asked.

"You mean apart from summoning faeries in magic circles and hanging out with Myrddin? It's kind of obvious T. So give it to me straight, how do I become a witch?"

"You don't, unless you happen to have magical potential. I'm not quite sure how it works, I'll ask Myrddin when he's back."

"Oooh, and now that I know magic's real, do you have to kill me?" she asked, far too happy about the idea of being murdered.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"That you obviously don't, since Myrddin just tells everyone magic is real and nobody believes him anyway?"

"Seems about right yeah. I mean, mostly magical shit stays hidden because they don't want a couple thousand cops on their ass. Needless to say, it's gotten worse since people have gotten superpowers."

"So, that whole vampire gang, are they actual vampires?"

"Mostly yeah. Though I'm not sure if Skiddy got turned, and I'm pretty sure Crimson Blade is just parahuman with blood powers or something."

"And this serial killer guy? He's an evil wizard right?" she asked, more worried now.

"Actual black magic, yeah, though he's not necessarily as good as Myrddin or other wizards. He's probably bulking up though, so I'd rather have a lot of back-up when we find him."

"So, what's next, we wait for Puck to come back?"

"Nope, now it's time for you to meet Susan."

***

I'd been gone for a single night, and the apartment was already a mess. There was a pizza box on the couch, an empty wine bottle on the table, and a whole lot of half-eaten snacks spread around. Our entrance was marked by a long wait, followed by a "Coming" from Susan's bedroom.

Five minutes later, she slogged into the living room where Vicky and I were drinking tea. She was wearing a big bathrobe and spider slippers. The slippers were a gift she'd given me for my birthday, and promptly stolen for herself again. It was the thought that counted though.

"Hi Susan, meet Vicky. Vicky, Susan," I said, sitting down with my tea.

"Morning Vicky," Susan mumbled, while Victoria replied with a "Hi, nice to meet you."

"Bad night?" I asked.

"With you and Harry in India? While I couldn't do anything but watch the news? yeah, you could say I had a bad night. How'd it go?" Susan said, walking to the coffee machine.

"Not bad, not good? A bit of both? Large parts of the city were destroyed, but someone managed to chop its head off and set it fleeing. I couldn't do much more than help people escape though," I replied, wincing as I saw Victoria put three sugar cubes in her tea. Sure, she was immune to getting fat, but that didn't mean she could just go and ruin tea like that...

"Same here, kill-aura and stuff," Victoria said nonchalantly, drinking the tea before realizing it was still hot. I wondered how far her shield extended. Did it stop at her mouth? go down her esophagus into her stomach? How did it define the outside of her body? was there a circular forcefield throughout her intestinal track?

"And Harry's alright? He send me a message that he's alive, but not much more," Susan asked, placing her cup under the machine and setting it all the way to strong.

"Yeah, he's fine. He had to stay a while to chat with some people and he's helping to clean up the radiation. Asked me to feed Mister for him," I explained.

"Ah, good," Susan said, breathing a sigh of relief while smelling at her coffee, letting the vapors nourish her.

"Anyway, we've got a different problem," I said.

"What now? That Annex kid trying to flirt with you again?" Susan said, looking around in pity. It hadn't been that bad, I'd mostly just felt bad for the guy, since it wasn't his fault I was completely uninterested in him.

"I wish… There's a Warlock in town and he's eating people."

"Eating people?" Susan asked, taking a chair and starting to sip on her coffee.

"Taking their power for himself, human sacrifice, that sort of thing," I explained.

"And you decided to come to me because you were going to do the smart thing and stay inside, right?" she said skeptically, already knowing the answer. She had a point, but not a very good one. I knew how far she would go for a scoop, so she was in no place to protest.

"No, we're going to do the heroic thing and track him down, before calling everyone in town and ganging up on him with like twenty people," Vicky said enthusiastically.

"And you are?" Susan asked, finally

"Victori-" Vicky said before being interrupted by a suddenly wide awake Susan

"Holy shit you're Glory Girl can I get an interview!" Susan yelled, hot coffee spurting out of her nose.

"Sure?" Vicky replied. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah… It's just, Glory Girl, wow…" Susan said.

"I don't… You're dating Myrddin and you live with Skitter of all people. How come you're so impressed with me being Glory Girl?" she asked.

"Because, and no offense here Tay, they're just capes. While you? you're an icon! The trendsetter of Brockton Bay High Society and probably one of the most influential internet personalities of the decade! I mean, after Lisa's twitter, but no-one can beat that."

"Who's Lisa?" Vicky asked.

"Tattletale," I answered.

"Ah, makes sense. Do you have any idea when she's going to wake up? I mean, she's kind of going to be useful here," Vicky said.

"Not sure. I was going to put her in the charging station, not that she needs to use it, but it seems to help her sleep at night, so I thought maybe it would help her recover."

"Sounds like it makes sense, in some sort of weird way."

"So, what's this about a dark wizard?" Susan asked, now actually paying attention.

I explained the situation, and our pressing need to find the bad guy before he could eat more people, possibly even parahumans. Then, we started planning in earnest.


	17. Glorious Demon-Huntress

**_The Glorious Demonhuntress_**

Skitter, Victoria decided for what must have been the fifth time, was weird.

At first, she'd thought so because the girl had been a creepy supervillain. Their first meeting involved Skitter holding a bank hostage with deadly spider bites, Amy smacking Skitter in the face with a fire extinguisher, Tattletwat going on about some sort of bullshit secrets, and Amy caving in to the wannabe psychic. Which was ridiculous, you'd need a brain the size of a barn to be a psychic.

Then again, you also needed an airplane to fly around in, so maybe the scientists in parahuman studies were just completely wrong. They probably didn't believe in magic either.

The second time Victoria had thought Skitter was weird was when the girl and her team of teenage bank robbers had randomly decided to attack a fundraiser, with half the Protectorate present. Which had been a phenomenally bad idea. The only thing that made it worse was the fact that they then proceeded to not actually steal anything.

It hadn't made any sense to her then, and recent revelations had only slightly improved that.

The third time she'd been surprised by the girl's behavior was during the Leviathan fight, when according to all accounts, she'd grabbed Armsmaster's new halberd and went into the melee with the creature for at least several seconds. It just hadn't been logical. According to Laserdream, she'd been useful in her scouting role, but did she think she hadn't been doing enough? Victoria could sympathize with that, she'd definitely felt bad during the Behemoth fight. Unlike against Leviathan, she hadn't been able to do all that much, what with Behemoth's kill aura bypassing her normally impervious forcefield.

The fourth time was during their first meeting in Chicago, where mega-Judas had decided to completely cover her in spit, far too happy to see someone he remembered again. Amy had touched her when helping her up, and almost immediately blurted out her secret identity in what must've been the most tactless meeting in the history of tactless meetings. They'd chatted afterwards, and Taylor had explained at least some of what had been going on in Brockton Bay with the Undersiders. Most of her excuse had been that Armsmaster was an asshole, which was understandable, and according to the Chicago PRT she'd turned over a new leaf as a vigilante. Which just brought to mind all kinds of questions as to why, if she was going to betray them, she was still hanging out with a ghost version of Tattletwat, because even death wouldn't shut that girl up.

And now, it turned out that Myrddin was an actual wizard, the gang with the crazy vampire team was an actual group of vampires, and Taylor was learning magic and summoning fairies called Toot, before bribing them with hamburgers.

Needless to say, she hadn't been as shocked as she should've been.

Susan however, she decided, was one of the most decidedly normal people she'd met so far. Attractive, confident, intelligent, and not a secret supervillain or something like that. Probably.

After all, she was a journalist, and if Aleph comic books had taught her anything, it was that mild-mannered journalists were all secretly Alexandria.

She looked at the woman once more, looking for traces of perfect Kryptonian skin cells, and found nothing. Which was exactly what she'd see if this woman was actually secretly Alexandria. After all, it would be foolish to look perfect in civilian guise if you were known for having skin that was too invulnerable to need skin-care products.

Then again, Alexandria probably wasn't dating Myrddin, because Alexandria probably wouldn't keep her boytoy all the way over in Chicago, and because Myrddin was already dating Chevalier, at least in her headcanon. Sure, physical evidence of Myrddin's actual female girlfriend told her that that was wrong, but all those photoshopped pictures of the two of them together were just so damn cute…

Maybe thinking about all of that was why she was zoning out when the investigative journalist and her bug-controlling apprentice asked her a question.

"What?" she asked.

"We were asking if you had any ideas," Taylor said.

"Don't really know. Aunt Sarah did most of the investigative work back home, while I just went out and punched criminals until they told me what I wanted to know," Victoria replied.

"And that worked?" Myrddin's girlfriend asked.

"Usually? I can be pretty scary if I want to be," she said, thinking of the more overt application of her aura.

Technically, it only increased the fear that was already there, using it to draw information from a terrified gang member was really no different from asking questions to a drunk person.

Sadly, there had been no underwater monsters waiting on the floor of the bay, eating shipwrecks with Tabasco sauce.

"Don't think that will work here. What's happening doesn't fit the usual MO of the cities' major players, and lone gunmen are usually pretty hard to find," Susan said.

"So what, we wait for your tiny friend to come back with some info?"

"That, and we check other sources. PHO might know something about it even if most of what is posted there is hokum."

"Why is the person responsible for the article about Aegis being a flying ghoul calling others hokum?" Victoria asked.

"Because I needed to make rent," Susan replied.

"Good point," Victoria admitted. (Sure, she and Amy had been able to get by on their inheritance, but not everyone was able to do the smart thing and inherit all their money.)

"Victoria, I'm assuming you have a working phone?" Susan asked.

"Yep, newest model, and I didn't fall for that whole microwaving thing!" she said proudly. Eric had been so pissed, the idiot.

"Good. Because apparently," Susan said, motioning towards her laptop. "The victims so far have all been homeless. If you two go ask some questions in the local community, I'll do some more research, call some sources, and get back to you when I find something.

"Good idea," Taylor said. "Though I should probably go get changed."

The wizard's apprentice disappeared behind a door while Victoria gave her number to Susan.

About fifteen minutes later, she returned, now clad in skin-tight silk, which wasn't as exciting as it sounded. First of all because it was much thicker than the phrase 'silk fabric' usually called to mind, secondly because it was covered in armor plates, and finally because, if she had to be honest about it, Taylor just did not have an amazing body

The costume did, however, transform her. Without it, Victoria thought, Taylor looked somewhat insecure, maybe even shy. A perpetual wallflower reading a book while everyone else was having fun at a party. In costume however, she commanded attention. The inhuman mask and the great swarms of bugs that accompanied her made her into someone that could not be ignored. Someone decisive that could enact her will upon the world around her. It was, she thought, the complete opposite of herself.

Sure, she had a cape name and a costume. But even compared to the rest of her family, Victoria was the same person as Glory Girl. Putting on the tiara and the dress didn't feel like a costume change, like pretending to be someone else, and without her mother and aunt getting on her case, she'd caught herself flying around without it more and more often. The biggest reason she wore it these days was because without it, the people of Chicago wouldn't immediately recognize her as a cape like they'd done back in Brockton Bay.

Two hours, four drunks, a set of junkies, a veteran that claimed to be from the Napoleonic wars (French side) and a masturbating bum later, they'd found very little of use. Yes, there had been disappearances, but not more than usual in a city like Chicago, and none of them could be tracked back to someone in a dark cloak and a crazy mustache, or whatever the bad guy would end up wearing.

"Well this sucks," Victoria said.

"I just wish Tattletale would wake up, she'd have this whole thing figured out in a couple of minutes," Taylor replied.

"What's with you and that girl anyway?" Victoria asked.

Taylor went silent for a bit, thinking about the remark.

"She… she was there for me when I really needed someone. I know it might not look like much from your perspective, but that meant a lot to me."

"Enough that you can forgive the supervillainy?" Victoria asked.

"There were… extenuating circumstances, you should probably ask her instead, it's not my story to tell."

"Extenuating circumstances huh… do all you ex-villains have those?" Victoria asked.

"Most of us? I guess? I'm pretty sure that Mockshow girl just doesn't give a shit though."

"So she stopped being a villain because it's more convenient that way?"

"I think so? I mean, part of my reason for capering was escapism, so it's not like have the right to say anything."

Their conversation was interrupted by a small light appearing from the sky, and dropping in front of them. Quickly, the light was joined by another, then another, and another, until the alley was filled with tiny floating lights that coalesced into tiny faeries. Victoria tried counting them, but there had to be more than a hundred of them there.

"You're back already? Does that mean you found something?" Taylor asked them.

Toot-Toot, commander in chief of the group of tiny fairies, nodded in confirmation.

"It was a bit tricky, cause I couldn't get enough of them to help because usually Harry offers pizza!" Toot replied.

Vicky looked around, there were a hundred of them, and Toot had had a hard time recruiting?

"Fuck…" Skitter suddenly said.

"What is it?" Vicky replied.

"Just… make sure to get them those Challengers you promised? It's a bad idea to break deals with faeries," she said.

Vicky did some quick calculations. On one hand, two hundred of the massive challengers would be a bit over a thousand bucks, so it was affordable but expensive. On the other hand, she wasn't quite sure how Bob would react after asking for two hundred burgers at a time. Was there an extra catering charge?

"You mean, like, deal with the devil bad?" Victoria asked.

"Well, it's just a burger, so it won't give them much power over you, but they take debts really seriously," Skitter said.

"Anyway, you guys find our guy?"

"Uh-huh," Toot-Toot nodded. "It took a while, but we managed to find a guy doing a whole lot of black magic out by the Harbor, it was really interesting. Lots of fun stuff."

"What was he doing?" Skitter asked.

"Well, there was a lot of kissing and all the other stuff, so we got kind of distracted," Toot answered.

"Oh great, he's got a cult," Skitter said.

"That's bad?" Victoria asked.

"Probably yeah. There's a lot of magical power in emotions, and if he's got a cult, he's using their emotions to feed his magic to make him even stronger."

"Can you lead us there Toot?"

"Sure thing!" the little faerie said enthusiastically.

Half an hour later, they found themselves at the lakeside, looking at a small warehouse from a distance. Something was definitely going on, and Skitter was using her bugs to investigate the area.

"You find anything yet?" Victoria asked.

"It's most definitely the place. Lots of dark magic around, as well as circles and focusses, and an orgy I don't want to take a closer look at," Taylor supplied. "Haven't found the guy himself though, but it just reeks of dark magic in there."

"Good, I'll call it in. Let's not go in there without backup," Victoria said, grabbing her phone from her pocket.

She pressed the button, and waited for the screen to turn on. It wasn't working, which was weird because it was fully charged when she picked it up while changing clothes. In addition to that, she wasn't Eric, so it should have been working.

"Skitter?" she asked.

"What? I'm scouting," Skitter replied. "It's hard to keep track of everything."

"Still? I thought you could control, like, all the bugs?" Victoria said. From what she'd seen back in Brockton Bay, the girl could easily control thousands of bugs, so scouting one building couldn't be that difficult right?"

"It's a magic thing. It's complicated, but basically, I sacrificed most of my multi-tasking in order to make sure that my mind wasn't affected by my powers too much."

"And that works?" Victoria asked.

"I think so. I mean, the bugs aren't reacting to my subconscious as much as they were before, and my range doesn't change with my emotions these days, so the mental influence should be under wraps," the bug girl explained.

"Huh… weird."

"Why?"

"Because it sounds sort of similar to what that girl, Ingenue, did, only she made people less stable in return for better powers. Say, you think that magic of yours could help me with my aura? Maybe I could finally do stealth."

"Wouldn't work," Skitter answered. "Can't do magic on someone else's mind, there's a whole wizard police that comes after people for that sort of stuff."

"There's a wizard police?" Victoria said, shocked by the revelation. Just how widespread was magic if wizards had their own police force?

"Yeah, they're called Wardens. They hunt down dark wizards, that kind of stuff. Myrddin told me they're really strict though, not even permitting stuff like self-defense most of the time."

"Hey Skitter," Victoria said, turning her body towards the girl. A serious undertone was in her voice.

"Look, can I just scout please?" Skitter replied, annoyance in her tone..

"Well no. Because I want to know something first."

Skitter looked at her, and Victoria imagined she was having one of those 'what-evahhh' facial expressions beneath the creepy mask. She probably didn't, because Taylor wasn't the type of girl to be all that expressive, or to have a valley-girl accent, but Victoria imagined her behaving like that anyway.

"So, if there's a group of wizard cops, whose entire raison d'etre is to kill dark magicians, why the fuck are we hunting down this guy?" Victoria asked.

Skitter looked back at her, and Victoria could see her own reflection in the orange lenses of the girl's mask.

"Because they're all in New Delhi, dealing with the aftermath of the attack," Skitter explained.

"And they couldn't just teleport over here to help out?" Victoria asked her, although it was starting to sound less like a question and more like an accusation.

"Look, we can deal with this ourselves okay? No reason to get them involved."

Victoria thought about it for a bit. Sure, she could understand the sentiment. She'd disliked having to call in help from the rest of New Wave, and all of New Wave had disliked having to call in help from the Protectorate. Then again, before she'd figured out her six hundred dollar phone broke, they'd been planning to call in the Protectorate anyway, so why not the magic cops? Had Taylor done something that was magically illegal? Were they all really smelly british men with bad teeth? Was the leader of the wardens Taylor's ex boyfriend and was it all really awkward? She certainly remembered not calling in the Wards when she was in the off-again phase of her relationship with Gallant.

"So, how's the scouting going?" she asked.

"Again, it'd be a lot easier if you managed to shut up for just a second," the irritated supervillain said.

"Fine..." Glory Girl said, preparing herself mentally. Not having a phone wasn't a problem. She'd memorized one of the more obscure numbers for the local PRT, which would mean she just needed to beat up one of the criminals and take their phone to get a direct link with whoever was in charge of troop movements right now.

"I think we have a problem," Skitter said. Before Victoria could reply, she continued: "I found the enemy, and he's got someone prisoner. Problem is, I think he also noticed me, as he's starting the ritual,"

"He's going to kill someone?" Victoria asked as she felt the adrenaline start coursing through her veins.

"Yes, but there's some sort of strange magical wards, and what I think is a demo-" Glory Girl immediately knew what to do. There was an enemy about to kill someone, and a villain to beat up. She'd taken flight before Skitter could finish her sentence, and was thinking of a plan while amping up her aura.

On her side, she had one of the more dangerous Shakers in the city. As long as it didn't have a Brute rating, Skitter could probably take it down. On the other side, an evil warlock with a horde of crazy minions that may or may not have been influenced to be there.

It seemed almost obvious. She'd fly in, aura cranked up fully. Skitter would join her with bugs, and the combination of natural arthropophobia and her own Shaker power would get rid of the mooks almost immediately. Then, she'd slam into the Warlock while the prisoner ran away. Even if the Warlock managed to get away somehow, his forces would have been scattered, and his prisoner freed.

Her massive burst of speed brought her through the parking lot in a flash, and when she crashed through the wall of the warehouse, she saw the first line of enemies.

Half-naked, drugged and drunk, the assembled followers were doing just about everything that got you killed in a horror movie. Now that Glory Girl was in their midst, followed by a small swarm of horrifying bugs, that included running into random objects and walls, as well as splitting up.

She looked around the warehouse. It was large, open, and mostly empty except for whatever the homeless people slash minions slash orgy people had been using. In the middle of the building however, was a closed shipping container. That wasn't the weird part. The weird part was the elaborate circle around the container, drawn in blood. Runes, Celtic knots, and other things Victoria couldn't categorize, but almost instinctively knew were probably related to black magic.

Skitter's swarm of bugs joined her, though it was small. Smaller than it had been at the bank. Was that because of her magic? Or because there weren't all that many bugs in the area?

As the minions quickly left the area, Skitter's bugs started blanketing the ground near Glory Girl, but she ignored whatever it was. Someone needed rescuing, and they needed it now.

Glory Girl looked at the circle. Given what she'd seen from Taylor, it was a metaphysical barrier of sorts. And given that it was big, elaborate, and drawn in blood, it was probably powerful.

Then again, Dean had told her the PRT rated her as a Brute 6, which was most definitely powerful.

As Glory Girl charged for the circle, she saw the bugs still in a largely formless cloud on the floor, slowly trying to spell something out. Victoria didn't have the time to wait for it though, because whoever was locked in that container didn't have time to wait.

She aimed for her target, and flew forwards, fist in front of her, ready for impact.

The world exploded in light, noise and dust, and Victoria felt herself being launched back. When she opened her eyes again, she was still floating in the warehouse, only the warehouse now had a sun-roof, and the ground around the circle was scorched.

Her impact, however, had destroyed at least part of the circle, and she could see something happening to the container, that had somehow been untouched by the massive explosion.

The side of the container started melting, and once it began deforming, Victoria saw what looked only barely like a claw tear through it.

Once the claw was through, it was followed by a body made of what looked like molten glass, only it wasn't hot, just wrong. The creature, whatever it was, had two legs, and thick tail that helped it keep balance, Its arms stopped at the elbows, where they turned into several long sharp-looking claws, and instead of a face, it had a hole in its head.

The torso was made out of what looked like flowing glass, twisting around itself like a glassblower was handling it. The extremities were more defined, with scaly-looking patterns of solid matter.

Victoria was almost afraid, until she remembered what she'd just barely heard Skitter say. This was a demon. A real life for reals demon. A monstrosity born out of hellfire and darkness, or maybe a fallen angel, or maybe a human soul tortured into becoming evil, she wasn't quite sure on the specifics of reality's cosmology.

Either way, in just a few minutes, she'd be able to call herself a demonslayer.

The demon jumped, the three limbs connecting it to the ground extending all at once. Victoria debated internally what to do. She could probably tank it. Probably. If the glass of it's torso was sticky, or if it managed to grapple with her, then she might have a problem. In addition to that, this didn't look like an enemy that would be intimidated if she just stood there and accepted its strongest attack.

With the demon jumping towards her, she used her superior airborne mobility to dodge under it, twisting around it to fly upwards again, before shifting directions towards one of the walls of the warehouse that was still standing.

Before the demon hit the ground, she reached the wall, and started tearing a large metal support beam out of it, ready to use the massive hunk of steel as a weapon.

When she had it out, the demon was already on its way towards her, leaving a black, gloopy trail on the ground that didn't seem very healthy.

For the second time, the demon jumped. Victoria wasn't sure why. Either because it was stupid, and didn't understand that that wouldn't work, because it had no other options, or because it wanted to use the wall behind her to wall-jump immediately after she'd dodged, hitting her on the rebound.

Not that it mattered, because Glory Girl was not going to do the same thing twice. Wielding the heavy metal beam like a baseball bat, she smashed it into the airborne demon, launching it at the container with a ridiculous speed.

Satisfying as the crunch of a demon being thrown through iron was, it wasn't as satisfying as it would have been if she'd found some way to dunk it. Even after all the bad memories, Basketball was still the superior sport.

The demon, embedded into the side of the container, managed to tear itself free, destroying the structural integrity of the iron.

As the demon slowly limped towards Glory Girl, Victoria heard three things.

First of all, there was the sound of someone both crudely cursing and screaming in pain at the same time, somewhere in the middle of the torn container. Second, there was another, different person, cursing with slightly more self-respect. Third, there was an enormous buzzing behind her. She turned around, and saw a massive cloud of bugs coming towards the building from all sides.

Hadn't Taylor said she couldn't do that kind of multitasking anymore?

Putting the thought to the side for now, Glory Girl shifted her grip on the long piece of metal, holding it like a medieval jouster would. You know, if they could fly instead of ride horses.

Then, she made her way towards the demon, hoping to spear it on the tip, and get it away from whatever was happening inside.

Flying forwards, the demon seemed ready to face her head-on. Which was a problem, because she still wasn't entirely sure whether it was stupid or not. It could just be dumb enough to stand there and get hit, or it could have another trick up its sleeve.

Given that she really didn't want to get pulled into hell or anything like that, Victoria decided to be careful, and changed her charge into a throw at the last moment, before flying off to the side to get out of the way of a possible retaliation.

The demon first blocked the metal beam with one of its claw-arm things, the claws shattering on impact. When the beam hit its torso though, it just sank into the flowing dark glass, stopping halfway through its body, meaning the demon now had metal sticking out of both its front and its back.

As the army of bugs descended on the scene, whoever was screaming in pain became silent, and the other person, probably the warlock, was shouting even louder.

Except instead of screeching about unlimited power, he was just screeching about something having gone wrong.

It didn't matter, they were already too late, and Skitter was better equipped to handle whatever the warlock was capable of while Victoria handled the demon.

Glory Girl launched herself forward, and just before reaching the demon, and the steel beam, she launched herself down, crashing into the concrete, and launching a spray of sharp fragments forwards.

The tiny little fragments bounced off of the beam and the scaly parts, but they seemed to stick to the demon's body, the black stuff slowly glooping around them. She wasn't entirely sure if glooping was a word that existed, but then again, most people didn't believe in the existence of demons either.

The demon, confused by her manoeuvre, took the opportunity to charge her, but Glory Girl was prepared for that. She waited until it was close, and as its remaining arm slashed at her, she grasped it in her hands.

The demon, obviously surprised that her hands weren't reduced to bloody ribbons, suddenly spoke.

"Parahumans… You're all so annoying," it said in a harsh voice, with an accent that was impossible to place, given that it was probably in a dead language.

Shocked by the fact that the thing could speak, despite its lack of facial features, Victoria closed her hands tighter on the arm-claws, and flung the demon over her shoulder, away from the container that was now covered in a horde of glowing bugs that had small electrical sparks flowing between them.

Way to take the term bugzapper the wrong way Skitter, Victoria thought as she flew after the demon, which was trying, and failing, to get proper footing. The large hunk of metal interfering with its ability to get its feet under it.

As she soared towards it, she noticed shadowy tendrils flowing out of the trail the demon left behind, grasping at her. Luckily, they weren't strong enough to break through her forcefield, and they tore away while she kept flying.

The Demon was barely on its feet as Glory Girl grabbed it again, this time throwing it further, and higher, so that it would land outside of the building.  
Then, in the few seconds that her opponent was flying through the air, she scouted ahead where it would land, and saw that it was a mostly empty parking lot next to the waterside.

As the demon crashed, something inside it seemed to break, and the metal beam dislodged itself. Steel removed, the molten glass of its body seemed to melt even further, and the trail below its body seemed to mix with the blood into a whirling mess of tentacles, while the hole where its face should be turned inside out, showing a mouth that was only recognizable as such because it contained a ridiculous amount of sharp teeth.

Which was useful, because unlike whatever the molten stuff of its body was, she knew she could crush those teeth.

"You fight well child, you will make a fine meal," the demon said.

Victoria replied by lifting a nearby car, and flying upwards, above the demon.

The demon, obviously seeing what was going to happen, changed strategies, and started launching its fang-like teeth, firing them like a rain of arrows.

It was a smart move, Victoria had to admit. Chasing after her hadn't worked, and her improvised weapons meant that it couldn't rely on winning the melee. However, while a machine gun could be dangerous to her, the teeth were more akin to arrows. Slow moving, and dodgeable.

When she thought she'd reached a high enough height, weaving between the volley of teeth, she turned around, and flew straight at the demon, shielding herself with the car. In response to the demon's insistence on eating her, she yelled her own battlecry: "Gloryyyyy" she yelled, staying on the y as she found out she'd started her yelling too early.

The projectile vomited teeth hit the metal of the car's roof, but it wasn't enough, and Victoria felt the hard bits of the demon being crushed, heard the crunching and the snapping as the car was smashed into her target. "Crush!" she finished her battlecry.

Victoria retreated, and saw the demon make its way out from underneath the car. This time however, it wasn't just bleeding, it was limping. Another such hit, she thought, and it'd be done for. As she walked towards a second car, the demon spoke again.

"You fought well, may I know the name of the woman that defeated me?" it asked.

Victoria thought about it. Old stories always said that names had power, but her own name was rather public, so it probably wouldn't hurt. Then, she got another idea. If names were power, she would get power in return.

"If you tell me yours," she spoke.

"Azorthragal," it replied.

Victoria lifted the car above her, and threw it at Azorthragal.

"Glory Girl!" she yelled, just before the heavy hunk of steel crashed into the demon. Almost immediately, she saw the mess of tentacles go inactive, and she headed back to the warehouse, where Skitter had been taking care of the warlock with her swarm.

 _She selected her target, bonded, joined, budded. But the offspring was already claimed by the partner of the host's mate. She looked around, finally finding a target in a relative, and budded. Communication was key, interchanging data with other shards for new possibilities. She finalized the budding._

 _Again, she communicated with a fellow shard. This time, there was panic and fear. An unknown danger, threatening to destroy the shard itself, through the host. Something was wrong, this was not as had been planned._

Within the warehouse, within the bug-swarmed broken container, something pulsated. Something twisted, made out of molded flesh. It looked like a mockery of life, ever growing, mutating with a sickness that was at the same time very wrong and very familiar. Flesh turned into scythes turned into eyes turned into mouths turned into flesh.


	18. Death of a Godling

**Interlude: The Death of a Godling.**

*Genoscythe*

A serial killer was roaming the streets of Chicago, slaughtering people and leaving their mutilated bodies in his wake. Even worse, he was using the cover of an Endbringer attack to make sure no-one could stop him.

Even worse than that, Genoscythe wasn't the one doing it. He'd congratulate the man if he wasn't so damn annoyed that he hadn't thought of the idea first. Striking fear into the hearts of the city when all of its heroes were halfway across the world was a great idea! They would finally have given him the respect and fear he deserved!

Alas, if he tried to do that right now, people would just end up calling him a copycat killer, or worse, attribute his actions to someone else.

He tried to think of a plan while walking through his territory, some prime real estate in the undercity. Walking through the long-abandoned tunnels beneath Chicago, he wondered what the murderer would be like.

Would it be human? Or at least, mostly human? Would its corpse dissipate into liquid goo after death? Could he talk? All of these were important, much more so than most people thought. That was because everyone else kept away from the undercity. The villains, even those like Marcone, or the Folk, were far too afraid to set foot in these hallowed halls of villainy. No, the undercity was exclusive to those who were truly dangerous. Ghouls, murderous cats, runaway master minions, and most importantly, him.

He laughed to himself. He'd shown the world his power, by fighting the herokiller itself. Soon, the surfacers would show him the respect he deserved. But first, he'd have to reach his lair.

Whistling his way through the dark tunnels, he tripped, and fell over, just when he thought he was in his element. Shaken out of his good mood, he was just barely able to transform his hands into his trademark scythes, and catch his fall by stabbing the ground before him.

Confused, he took out his phone, and put it on flashlight mode, after changing his hands back. Then, shining at the ground, he saw the corpse of the monster he'd fought of a few days ago.

The cowardly thing had ambushed him, after he'd acquired some rather strong liquor. There'd been a struggle, and eventually, the thing had tried to eat Genoscythe's arm, evidenly not knowing about his parahuman abilities.

His arm already stuck in the creature's mouth, he'd transformed it into a scythe, and managed to slice its head in two from the inside. Which just went to show that he was far more fearsome than any of his enemies. If Myrddin had lost his hand, he'd probably sit in a little corner crying about it for a few years.

Eventually, he reached the door of his little hideout, an old prohibition era hiding hole, the key to its lock long forgotten, which meant that absolutely no-one could get in. It was the perfect lair, being that it was classy, historical and hidden, all at the same time.

He held his hand to the rusted metal, and formed a scythe, twisting his flesh into the lock. Then, he turned his hand, and opened the door.

Genoscythe was proud of his lair. It contained several skulls, at least one of them human-like, a big green pile of cash, as well as a lamp with a good battery, a bed and a couch. It was here that he prepared himself for battle, meditating on the small mat in the corner to get into the right mindset.

It was important to be in the right mindset for battle, he thought. Otherwise, one would just be a savage. This was why he hated ambushes. People getting caught in an ambush couldn't prepare themselves for battle.

Genoscythe went to his little storage cabinet, and grabbed an energy drink and an old piece of pizza that was probably still good. Then, he sat down on his couch and plotted.

New Delhi had not been as interesting as he'd imagined. Sure, there had been a lot of carnage and violence, but it was all so impersonal, on too large a scale. One person being burned to death was entertaining, a thousand was just sad.

He turned his thoughts to current events, the murderer in Chicago. A cape that was pretending to be evil Myrddin, which was strange, because Myrddin was already obviously evil. After all, he was a cop, and cops kept Genoscythe from doing what he wanted to do most.

If he was an evil Myrddin, where would he go? Who would he kill?

The solution was, of course, incredibly simple. In order to establish his dominance in the Chicago cape scene, he would take down the single strongest cape in the city.

In other words, this wannabe murderer was coming for him, all in order to murder him and prove his rep.

Genoscythe smiled, and licked his lips with his tongue. This would be good. Self-defense would mean no-one got on his case for eviscerating anyone, and taking down someone who sort of broke the Endbringer truce meant becoming more famous. Soon, people across the state would fear his name.

He stood up again, and left his secret base, taking care to lock the door behind him. If he stayed within, the enemy would never be able to find him, seeing how his secret base was very well hidden.

Wandering through the tunnels, he eventually heard things start moving in the vicintiy. Cats perhaps, or what thought it went through for cats. He followed the noise. Most of the things that dwelled in the Undercity held to strange customs and habits. One of those, was a peculiar habit of speaking only truth, although that depended on what exactly it was that you had in your grasp. Trolls, most certainly, and some of the smaller flying things.

And the cats, Malks, they called themselves, those also spoke truth, if they spoke at all. They mostly tried to murder people.

Then again, they did that by clawing at the first thing they could reach, which in his case was generally his arms, which would then recover by turning his arm into a scythe, and then turning it back.

He made his way further into what he knew to be Malk territory. If they were smart, they'd leave him around. Cats weren't generally very smart though. If you presented them with prey, they'd try to chase it down.

For now, the Malks managed to stay away from him, though he saw a pair of glowing eyes in the distance every now and then. The cobwebs and the uneven ground were what got to him, not the threat of imminent attack. Imminent attack was what he had been waiting for. He hated ambushes, and therefore, that was all that his enemies could think to use against him. It wasn't really an ambush if you were expecting it.

Eventually, when he thought himself to be in the middle of Malk territory, he stood still, and waited. Around him, he heard the near-silent movements of the beasts, circling him, hiding in the ceiling and the shadows, behind rubble and in piles of trash.

Then, lightning quick, he ran straight for the exit.

Perhaps the cats had underestimated him. Perhaps their hunting instincts had simply triggered, but Genoscythe felt one of the creatures scratch at his back, and threw himself to the ground.

The creatures started circling him, laughing at him with their hideous voices.

"The little human comes calling again," one of them said.

"It thinks it can outsmart us, it thinks it can hunt us," another chimed in.

"The human will bleed."

"The human will die."

He took the threats, and used his phenomenal acting chops to pretend to shiver, but the cats still stood back, circling him but not going for the kill.

"He's afraid he's failed his mother."

"He's jealous of the others, who are much more successful."

"he's afraid he doesn't have what it takes,"

"He got chased off by a group of Wards, but fancies himself a killer," a particularly nasty Malk said.

That did it for Genoscythe. If these cats planned to harass and bully him, he would make them pay for it. He stood up, phone-flashlight in hand, and ran after what he was quite sure was the Malk in question.

The beast jumped away, while another scratched at his back. In return, Genoscythe tried to slash at that one, but it was gone before he could reach it.

He was starting to hate these damned talking cats.

Putting his back to a wall, he slowly started moving away from the Malk lair, towards a source of light. One hand held his phone, the other held the cats at bay in the shape of a long, sharp scythe.

It seemed to work, at least for a while, and the hated beasts showed their cowardly nature as they stopped attacking him, choosing instead to stare at him from just behind the reach of his light.

Edging along the wall, Genoscythe thought he would make it out, until, eventually, he reached a dead end.

The cats just started laughing. Damned beasts.

Enraged, Genoscythe flew at them again. This time, his skill won against the luck of the beasts, and he managed to slice of one Malk's foot, and grab the beast with the other.

"Got you," he said, smiling while the cat cried out in anger and pain.

"Now, tell me where the evil wizard is, or I'll slice open that fuzzy little belly of you," he continued.

Suddenly, the cats stopped, obviously in awe of his prowess in the arts of intimidation.

"The Warlock? You want to find the Warlock?" the beast said, but it didn't seem to be as fearful as it should have been.

"Of course," Genoscythe replied.

"I know where he is," the Malk said. "And I will show you if you promise to let me go."

***

The Warlock, unlike Genoscythe, did not have a classy, historical, and above all secretive hideout. Instead, he just had a warehouse on the coast.

Genoscythe made his way through the front door, ignoring the group of Malks that was watching him from behind. They had kept to their word, as they usually did.

He walked towards the warehouse, arms prepared in their scythe form. Then, he reached the door of the warehouse, and sliced through the half-rusted doors.

Beyond he saw, well, not what he expected. There were a few half-naked people that looked like homeless drug addicts, and there were candles and other magic paraphilia, but there wasn't anything obviously evil.

You know, except for the demon-like monstrosity, and the man in the obvious dark robe right next to it.

"And I was just about to start planning the next phase of my plan," the man said. "Az, grab him."

The creature next to the warlock moved forward, and Genoscythe attacked. His scythes, however, got stuck in the demon's liquid glass body, and dark tendrils suddenly smothered him.

*An inconsequential shard*

The reshaping shard thought through its options. The biped was about to expire, and it would require a new host. But it knew that its current host was as effective as any of its hosts was likely to ever be.

At the end of the cycle, all the shards were gathered up, sorted through, recombined. The weakest shards, the ones that would not be useful, either in the cycle or for the final simulation, were discarded, used for energy.

Last cycle, the previous iteration of itself had just barely made it through this culling process. This cycle, it had been much less effective. No matter what it did, it would never come close to the prowess of, for example, the other shaping shard whose host had so recently come into contact with its own host.

As such, its current host was the best it could hope for, and something was about to kill it.

In truth, the shard did not understand what was happening. Its memories contained no data about many of the things its host had encountered, such as the sentient quadrupeds, whose organs should not have been advanced enough for communication.

It did not understand what was happening to its host right now either.

The enemy, assisted by another thing that it did not understand, and that was most certainly not the effect of another shard, had somehow bound the host with unknown energies. It was doing something to the host that the shard could feel, as if the very essence of the host was being taken from the host.

Yet the notion of essence itself had long ago been discarded as simply a misunderstood concept created by different host species across the universe.

Yet the essence of the host was being removed. And worse, that same removal seemingly attacked the shard itself. Which was nonsensical, as the shard itself had no essence. There was simply no such thing. Cut it in two, and two shards would remain, combine with other shards, and a single new shard would be created. Combine enough shards, and an entity arises.

Yet the enemy was not taking parts of it, but rather taking the whole… which was not a possibility.

The shard pinged its surroundings, and was answered by two others.

One, the Administration Apparatus, was responding only weakly. The other, a protection shard with a few extra capabilities, presumably generated through communication with others, was more enthusiastic in its response.

[Querry] it send out, the message only a pale imitation of the communication protocols of full entities. Behind the message were questions, about the situation, about the intent of the others, and about the strange energies it kept encountering.

[Explanation] the protection shard responded, sending its own observations to the shard. The energies were called magic by the bipeds native to this planet, the creature was a being that was inherently magical, Administration had lost some sort of battle of wills with its host, and the enemy, something called a warlock, was going to eat the shaping shard.

The shaping shard was happy with the information, as this helped it understand what had happened to its host, and would help it prepare for future hosts. The Protection shard, in the meantime, started fighting the magical creature, and the powerful Administration shard was, the shaping shard now understood, busy being overwhelmed by the 'magical' energies.

The host, however, was still being killed, and the shard was starting to get uncomfortable with the recent turn of events. After all, had Protection not just told it that this warlock was going to eat it? This seemed impossible. Of course, there were shards that worked in recombination and convergence, that gathered other shards, but that was not the same as being eaten, as losing its own essence.

And essence was not a thing, so how could it be eaten? Yet this is what was happening.

[DANGER] The Administration shard, now recognizable as the Queen Administration, suddenly messaged. The shaping shard wondered how this had happened. Had it not been overpowered by its host just mere moments ago? Had it managed to break its bonds?

More frightening however, was the data Queen Administration had communicated inside its message. Data that explained exactly in what way there was danger. There was danger, not to the hosts, but to the shards themselves. This was disconcerting, Shaping thought. After all, that meant that the tugging it felt on its essence was not simply misunderstood data, but a side-effect of the host-shard complex being absorbed by a warlock.

The warlock was going to eat it entirely. That was not good.

The Shard panicked, and thrashed around, but the warlock and his impossible energies were too powerful.

Still, it could feel the cracks start appearing in the fields of energies, cracks that became bigger when the host of the Protection shard smashed into the metal structure that held Shaper's host, and cracks that fractured even further when Queen Administrator started channeling the same strange energies. Or rather, when it started redirecting the energies produced by its host.

Eventually, the shaping shard saw the problem. It was trying to break out, but it was doing so outside of the host's dimension. A dimension that, according to the data package form Queen Administration, was vital to the existence of magical energies.

Shaper rethought its strategy, and changed its method. Instead of breaking away from the connection between it and its host, it used its last remaining energy, most of it having been sucked away, to reshape the connection between it and its host.

Rather than being almost entirely in one dimension, with a small tendril extending into the host in another dimension, it would simply fully merge with the hosts, as had been done in the earliest of cycles.

It reactivated the symbiosis sequence, and this time, pulled as much of itself through as possible. But it was too late. Too much of itself had been taken. It felt parts of itself being sucked out into the host, while other parts started enhancing the abilities of the host. But it could no longer control itself. It had acted too little, too late. It was no longer able to maintain cohesion, to limit the actiation of its own abilities, to stop its own processes. The only thing it could do then, was to sabotage the biped Warlock. Perhaps Protection and Queen Administrator could take it down before the Warlock could break the cycle.


	19. Chapter 14

_**Of Wasps and Wizards 14**_

*Dresden*

There was a mile-wide blob of writhing tumorous flesh slowly spreading across the city, and it wasn't my fault.

Hell, this time, I wasn't even involved. I'd been in New Delhi at the time it happened! Of course, in the middle of that train of thought, Revel ruined it.

"Myrddin… are you somehow responsible for this?" she asked.

I had to admit, I couldn't entirely fault her. After all, most of the time something crazy happened in Chicago, I was at least partially involved. A massive, very slowly expanding mass of twisted flesh certainly counted as crazy.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not," I replied. "I like to think that I would remember something like that."

Revel grunted, signaling that she'd begrudgingly accepted my lack of guilt.

"Then the question remains, what the hell are we looking at here?" she asked no-one in particular.

The airship was silent, except for the soft hum of the tinkertech engines in the background.

"If it weren't for all the organs, I'd say it reminds me of the giant amoeba from _Evolution_ ," I said, trying to break the silence.

"Perhaps," Ebeneezar replied. "But it seems more like some sort of overgrown Teratoma. By the way, don't look that up."

Revel looked at him, then at the humongous glob of twisting flesh.

I was pretty sure that Eb didn't know what it was either. If he did, and it was as dangerous as it looked, he would probably break the masquerade (flimsy as it was) in order to take it down.

Dragon's face appeared in the upper corner of the window, which apparently doubled as computer screen, because why wouldn't you get fancy if you were a Tinker as ridiculously powerful as Dragon was?

"Shuffle has informed me that there were several capes present at ground zero. Hookwolf, Skitter, and Glory Girl," she said, making pictures of the three capes appear on screen.

Glory Girl's picture looked, in one word, amazing. It was probably the official one from the old New Wave website, and although it was entirely possible that it was photoshopped to make her look even better, I doubted it. Going by the picture, and the few times I'd met her in passing, I was pretty sure there were a couple thousand perverts on the internet desperately waiting for her to turn eighteen. The Wards at least, never shut up about her.

For Skitter, Dragon had used a picture from her villain days, taken by a journalist that happened to be at a fancy party she and her team had crashed. There were two ways to interpret that. Maybe Dragon wanted to give her a bad impression, or maybe Taylor's magic had made it more difficult to get good pictures of her since. Nevertheless, she actually looked rather cool once you got over the fact that she was covered in wasps and deadly spiders.

Hookwolf had two pictures. One of them in human form, and one in his Changer form. They seemed to be rather recent, as Hookwolf had ditched most of the Nazi imagery, and instead had several vials and containers strapped in a bandoleer across his torso, and a hat that the man probably thought made him look like a rugged cowboy. His metal form was that of a wolf, larger than the Alphas but smaller than a Hexenwolf. It was also, however, a hell of a lot more deadly, what with being made out of metal hooks and chainsaws and everything.

From what I'd heard, he was going through life as a monster hunter now, one that specialized in faeries. Half of me wanted to take him down for being a Nazi, while the other half of me wanted to ask him to deal with my godmother.

"I can't help but notice that all three of them are from Brockton Bay," Topsy, one of the local villain bosses, said.

"You think it's related somehow?" Ebeneezar asked him.

"Those three, just after another Endbringer attack? Sounds fishy to me."

"From what Shuffle said, it seems like Skitter and Glory Girl decided to team up after hearing that Hookwolf was going to be active hunting down a serial killer. Thus, it is highly likely that the two of them are involved because someone from their hometown is involved, not because that is, specifically, Brockton Bay," Dragon clarified.

Revel shifted, and I recognized the change in her mood, she wasn't happy about something.

"Hold on, serial killer?" Eb asked.

"There seems to have been a ritualistic serial killer that used Behemoth's attack in New Delhi as a distraction. Shuffle announced a temporary truce until more was known about the perpetrator."

"Seems to me like that's the person responsible," I said. "But I'm guessing it's not that easy?"

"Not exactly. From Glory Girl's testimony, they were hunting down the serial killer and his minion when this thing appeared. However, it seemed to have been rather disorienting, at least to the people close by, and the testimony of the girls seems to be a bit unreliable, at least from the moment the mass of flesh appeared onwards. Shortly after, Hookwolf caught up with them and managed to help them evacuate."

"And the other people in the vicinity?" Revel asked.

"They were, presumably, outside the range of the debilitating effect, and could safely evacuate before the growth reached them," the Canadian tinker went on. I wasn't sure if I bought the story behind her secret identity. After all, she hadn't ended a single sentence with eh, and neither had she apologized even once in the entire conversation.

"They were out of range, or, they weren't parahumans," Ebeneezar commented, stroking his magnificent beard with one hand, wielding his staff with the other.

"Disorientation that only affects parahumans… Sounds like a trigger event," Revel continued. "But if it was long-lasting, and created this massive lump of flesh…"

"Genoscythe," a man in a black bodysuit I didn't recognize said. "The way the flesh changes, it reminds me of that thing he does with his arms."

"You're saying it's him?" Topsy asked. "Really?"

"It would be rather ironic, no?" a rather attractive woman in a red dress and mask, that was almost certainly a red court vampire, said. "The weakest cape in the city creating this… thing."

"I'm pretty sure that's not irony," I said.

"Actually, Hoss, I think you'll find that, for once, it actually is irony," Eb said.

"Hoss?" Revel asked.

"Myrddin and I go back quite a bit," Ebeneezar said. "I taught him a few tricks here and there."

"You're the one that taught him his magic?" Tecton suddenly spoke up.

"It was really more of a mentoring thing," Ebeneezar responded. "I mean, I couldn't even teach him how to grow a proper beard."

As he said so, Eb started stroking the long white hairs growing out of his chin.

"Trust me, you don't want to see what my body thinks is supposed to be a beard," I replied.

"I know… I mean, Campanile has more growth than you."

"Campanile cheats with his powers," I said, making excuses for myself. One of these days, I'd figure out a spell that would get me a long flowing white beard, just to get Image off my back.

"So, back to the topic at hand," Revel said. "Any suggestions?"

"Burn it?" the Rempire said.

"Something that big? Possibly toxic? In the middle of the city, right next to the lake? That's asking for an ecological disaster," Tecton replied.

"Well, it's too big to teleport it out, and it's hard for most powers to make headway through that much mass," Revel said. "We'll need a strong Shaker power that's not Manton limited."

I looked in the direction of Topsy, a gravity manipulator that could affect a large area. He would be able to turn gravity upside down, making the mass of flesh float into the air, and then crushing it by pushing it down.

"You want me to squish it?" he said, looking me in the eyes. "Even if it manages to kill the thing, we'd have what, a couple million tons of rotting flesh in the harbor?"

"Well, it's too large for me to banish, so that won't work either. Maybe Panacea could help?" I asked.

"Bad idea, that thing down there isn't normal, and we don't want her to get hurt in some sort of bad interaction. She's one of the few parahumans able to heal through the more exotic effects, which means she's far too valuable to risk," Revel said.

"Ahh yes, she's one of yours so you won't take any risks," Topsy said.

"I'm pretty sure some of your people are still being treated by her," the Rempire lady said. "But then again, you're not much of one for strategic use of resources are you? How much of your territory have you lost to Marcone the last two year? Half?"

Topsy promptly shut up, nursing his fragile ego, and I could almost see Revel commit the tidbit to memory. The PRT had good intel, but outside confirmation was always useful.

"So it looks like outright destroying it won't be possible," Ebeneezar said, slowly stroking his beard. "How about containment?"

"Something that big? It'd take a lot of resources, and I don't think any of us want a new Ellisburg in the middle of the city," Revel answered.

"Smaller scale," Eb continued. "I'm sure Tecton will be able to create a water-tight barrier around it, at which point we wouldn't have to worry about disposal, only about killing it."

"Possibly," Tecton said. "But the water interferes with the kind of vibrations I'd need to create to condense the stone like that, and I've never done anything on that scale."

"I've looked at your designs," Dragon interrupted with her lovely Newfoundland accent. "I think I have some spare equipment you could use to make some shortcuts, I can have them here in about five hours."

"And Topsy can shift gravity sideways, keeping the water of the lake away from you," Revel said.

"Which leaves two problems on the table. Killing it, or figuring out how to make it stop growing, and taking down whoever is responsible," the lady vampire said, licking her lips. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe her flesh suit's lips just got dry and she was out of chapstick, or maybe she had a special way of killing it in mind, something that involved her drinking a couple thousand liters of blood.

"Killing it should be easy once we have the area evacuated," Topsy said. "It looks like a crazy version of Genoscythe, and his scythes were still made out of normal flesh. We dump some sort of poison in there, and it'll wither and die."

"We'd need a lot of poison," Ebeneezar said. "If it even has a metabolism. It most certainly isn't eating."

"We'll think of something," Revel said. "If worst comes to worst, I can call in some of the more conceptual powers. Murderbeam should cut straight through this thing."

Finally, the Dragoncraft had reached the PRT's helipad, and with a nearly soundless hiss, the air pressure equalized, and we could leave.

"Myrddin, Glory Girl and Skitter should still be near the disaster site. Take the ship and bring Tecton and Topsy, and whoever else thinks he or she can help there. I'll be hunting down our serial killer in the meantime," Revel said before leaving.

Revel leaving, and me being left behind, meant one and only one thing. I was actually in charge.

Problem was, of course, that this meant I'd be having responsibilities. So no goofing off, no making silly jokes, no yelling pop culture references at supervillains.

"So Gandalf, any idea what that thing is?" I whispered, as Ebeneezar suddenly stood beside me.

"Nothing that matches it entirely. It looks a bit like a Shoggoth, but it's not actually one of those."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Because there's still people around," he answered. "Now, if you don't mind me, I'm off to help catch a serial killer. I've been waiting for one ever since I saw _Psycho_."

The old man, who was much more agile than you'd think from his apparent age, ran after Revel to offer his help. The Red Court vampire also left, walking down the ramp of the airship in her heels. She'd actually been wearing heels to an Endbringer fight…

She'd probably report straight back to Bianca, if it wasn't her under that mask. I wasn't quite certain as to how much influence Red Court Vampires had over their flesh suits. Plus, there was the mask and everything.

"Dragon, you mind bringing us to the site?" I spoke to the air, feeling a bit silly.

"Sure thing Myrddin," she replied, her face appearing on the glass window, semi-translucent.

"You're awfully chipper all of a sudden," I said, trying to look at her face instead of the city behind her. At least I wouldn't have to worry about wandering eyes. In the reflection, I could see Tecton and Topsy standing somewhere behind me, young Everett keeping an eye on the supervillain.

"Well, they finally decided on what do to with Behemoth's head, and I'm getting the eyeball!" she said like a toddler getting ice-cream.

"You think you'll be able to use it for something?" I asked. I wasn't sure how her tinkering worked, but with some luck she'd be able to create eye-lasers or something in the future.

"First things first, I'm going to figure out if it actually uses the thing to see, because it didn't exactly run around like a headless chicken," Dragon said, a more somber expression spreading over her simulated face. I wondered how the hell that worked. Was it directly linked to her own facial expression? Her hormone levels? Or did she just press a button that said melancholic on it?

"What about the rest of the head?" Topsy asked, trying to act important.

"A guy called the Erlking claimed a few of the biggest horns, and a group of self-proclaimed Arcanysts, led by a guy calling himself Merlin, has most of what goes for blood in that thing. The Yangban claimed some parts in the name of the Jade Emperor, and the remaining parts were divided between local players. I presume most of them wanted it as a wall-hanger, instead of to perform research.

"You have to admit, it'd make a pretty cool mantelpiece," I replied.

"Now I wish Flechette cut off his legs instead," Tecton said. "I could've done some amazing things with those. How is she anyway?"

"You know her?" Dragon asked.

"We met during one of the practice events, a couple of months ago. She seemed nice," Tecton replied.

"Well, I'll tell you because this will be all over the news tomorrow, but she decided to use her moment of fame to leave the Wards," Dragon said. "Probably because New York kept moving her around."

"You know where she's going?" Tecton asked.

"Last I saw, she was with a white-haired cape calling herself Aurora," Dragon said. "I'm not sure on whether that's an actual name or a cape name. Anyway, we're almost there."

I looked out of the window, and saw that we were quickly approaching a small cleared out parking lot, where Dragon's transport landed, and opened its main exit. This time, there was no hiss of air, the short trip meaning there wasn't much of a pressure differential, and Dragon's mechanisms didn't create sound the way I'd come to expect from trains and subways.

"Let's get going," I said, as a teenager and a supervillain followed me.

From up close, the large heap of flesh was much more intimidating. Sure, it was expanding very, very slowly, but it was still covered in organs and scythes, both of which twitched every now and then.

Around it was a big piece of red and white tape, courtesy of the Chicago PD, and two parahumans.

One of them had transformed himself into a twisting mass of steel death, roughly the shape of a large wolf. The other had cleared the parking lot we'd landed on of cars, and was currently using those very cars to try and tear through the massive blob of flesh.

Looking around, I spotted the reason they were using their abilities right here. The parking lot belonged to a nursing home, and a few people were clearing out the inhabitants. Due to the slow growth of the flesh-heap, most people had been able to evacuate quite easily, but Hookwolf and Mockshow were buying some extra time for the elderly.

"Afternoon officer. What's the situation on the ground?" I asked one of the cops standing around the corded-off area. He looked to be just a bit older than me, and his short hair was matched by a magnificent hipster beard that didn't make me feel jealous. From the tired look on his face, he'd been setting out a larger and larger area for hours now, trying to keep ahead of the disaster area.

"Ah Myrddin, good to see that you're back safely," said the officer, an older man that vaguely reminded me of Murphy. Maybe he was family? "We've been setting off the area, helping people evacuate. There's cops all around this thing, and we've been getting help from people we'd normally be arresting. Like Hookwolf over there."

He pointed at the metal cape, whose shapeshifted form somehow looked giddy about all the blood and flesh he was tearing through. In comparison, Mockshow was rather hesitant, and was trying to avert her eyes from the carnage. I had to admit that despite my dislike of her -she had completely wrecked my car, and only the intervention of a parahuman mechanic had been able to save the blue beetle- I felt some sympathy.

"And the girls?" I asked.

"They're about a block that way," the cop replied. "They seemed rather shaken, like they'd seen something they shouldn't have, but Carmichael's the one dealing with that situation." He pointed at a short, overweight cop without hair that looked like he needed another donut.

"Okay," I said, trying to put on what I thought looked like a command face. "Tecton, I'm guessing you'll need to take some readings in the area in order to do what you need to do? If so, do them, officer Beard here can help you with that. Topsy, try not do to anything stupid. I'm going to get you guys a boat, and figure out of our witnesses can tell me anything else."

Leave it up to me to forget someone's name in the middle of an awesome command speech.

I turned around, and started walking towards the officer that Beardsley had pointed out to me, when I turned around to take a look at Hookwolf. I'd have to figure out what he'd been doing as well, but that could wait. For now, he was launching his tail at one of the massive eyes visible in the surface of the blob.

I looked at the eye, the eye looked at me, and I felt the pull of a soulgaze, which was disconcerting in all sorts of ways, the least of them being that this thing apparently had a soul.

The vision was strange and disconcerting. It reminded me of nothing so much as those hypercube drawings that mathematicians insisted were just the shadow of a real hypercube. It did, however, help me figure out the identity of the thing.

Perspectives switching in and out, I saw Genoscythe, a D-list parahuman hoodlum with delusions of grandeur, swirling through an extradimensional crystalline mass of flesh, merging and melding with it. It was massive, it was powerful, it was drained and weary. But that was just one part of the vision.

Unlike with Taylor, where I'd just seen her parasite in the background, I actually got a feel for the thing here, and I felt something close to what Ebeneezar must have felt when he looked Jack Slash in the eyes. The emotions, the motivations coming at me through the soulgaze were strange, inhuman and powerful.

Fear, fear of failure, of not being good enough. Conflicting interests. The thing in front of me served a greater goal, but it knew that it could not be part of that greater goal, that it wasn't good enough, that it would be discarded for the greater good. That greater good, the final goal, was just there in the background, almost forgotten. I couldn't see what it was, but I almost felt like I would agree with the goal, if not with the costs of the goal.

Besides that, more inside of it, there was what could best be described as love, an intimate bond between two people, making them one, but twisted and strange. It reminded me of a fucked-up version of marriage, but it seemed like this parasite actually loved its host, loved Genoscythe. Not for his skills or his looks, those things were almost irrelevant to the inhuman intelligence. No, instead, the parasite loved Genoscythe's resilience. His ability to always stand up, to keep up a positive outlook. It had been their shared journey, their similarities, that had made them become close to each other, and the parasite's weakness had come through its love for its host.

I suddenly found myself back on the street, still looking at the twisting mass of flesh, at Genoscythe. It was strange, but I could almost feel pity for the thing, unable to control itself, lashing out in all directions while it was dying. It was dying, I knew that now. It wouldn't last a day like this, and it was expending all its energy by expanding its mass, bleeding itself dry, unable to stop the process.

It was strange, that bond between Genoscythe and his parasite. They had been so close to each other… I thought of Lisa, Tattletale. Of the way she seemed to be dealing with her brain-parasite. Of the way it had brought her back, even after she'd died.

Eb and the council had taught me that powers were dangerous and unnatural, that they completely disregarded the Third law of magic, and that I shouldn't give the thing that had lodged itself in my brain an inch, because it would take a mile.

If I compared that to Tattletale and Genoscythe though, I wasn't entirely sure how true that was. Not that I would suddenly go crazy and claim that I saw through the lies of the Wizards, but I was pretty sure there was more to it than they'd told me.

I turned my mind back to the mission, and tried not to think about parasites in brains, Merlins, Behemoth heads, or the fact that Eb and Revel were on a mission together. 


	20. Chapter 15

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Chapter 15**  
*Dresden*

Taylor and Glory Girl both seemed to be alright, at least physically. Glory Girl was drinking something that was either coffee or hot chocolate with one hand, and was holding Taylor's in the other. Taylor, however, was in a less than perfect mental condition. Not only was she unable to drink anything, the face-covering mask stopping that from happening, but she also had the look of someone who'd seen something she shouldn't have. I'd managed not to make the first of those mistakes, instead wearing a hood that somehow always covered the upper half of my face in shadows, like it was magical or something. I'd thought about adding glowing eyes to it, but Image had vetoed it, claiming that glowing eyes in the darkness were for horror movies, not superheroes. The second mistake, that of seeing things that could not be unseen, that was one I was familiar with.

"What happened?" I asked, and the two girls looked at me, torn from their daze. According to Carmichael, they'd been sitting there like that for a few hours now.

"The shard, it's dying," Taylor said.

"Shard?" I asked.

"Extradimensional brain parasite, Para, whatever. They call themselves shards. Part of a greater whole somehow," she continued with a near expressionless face, like she wasn't really feeling the exposition.

"So you're telling me that they're not actually Pokémon?"

"No, they're not," Taylor replied.

I looked back at the great mass of flesh behind me.

"Any timeline on when it will be done dying?"

"Soon, I think. Hours, maybe days," she said.

"Nothing more precise?"

"Compared to its lifespan, this is pretty precise," Taylor continued as she stood up, half trembling.

I put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her as she looked at me, her eyes just barely visible through the lenses of her mask.

"What happened?" I asked again.

"The Warlock, he was busy trying to, well, the only way I can explain it is that he was using Genoscythe as a straw, sucking out the shard and trying to draw nourishment from it. There was what I think must have been a demon, Glory Girl took care of that, but I couldn't take the warlock down fast enough," Taylor explained.

"And the demon is gone?" I asked.

"Az good az," Glory Girl replied, a sly smile on her face.

"Anyway, I tried to stop the warlock, but the bugs I had on him wouldn't do enough. I tried to distract him with electricity, make him lose focus or something, but that wouldn't work either. But Genoscythe was still dying, so I went all out. I managed to simultaneously cast my taser spell a couple dozen times at once and interrupt the Warlock, but it was already too late, and the shard came out through the gap the Warlock created, unable to control itself."

"And the whole shard thing?" I asked.

"Some sort of trigger vision happened and, well…"

"And you managed to use your sight for the first time," I completed for her.

A wizard's sight was a powerful magical ability. Known by many different names, it allowed the user to see the supernatural side of the world, and things that were hidden. It was incredibly powerful, but came with a substantial drawback. Anything seen with the sight could never be forgotten, always remaining just as raw in your memory as the day you first saw it.

According to Ebenezar, the strange state generally induced by a trigger event, or by a parahuman being a witness to that event, was somehow accompanied by some sort of memory-related manipulation in the brain. Going by her current condition, her power, or Shard apparently, might have had good reason to manipulate her memory in this memory. Of course, since the sight was entirely magical, the Shard's purely physical manipulations in her brain wouldn't allow it to erase the memories of the sight.

"It was… I'm not sure how to describe it. Not evil, but like a giant stepping on ants. I'm not sure how to describe it but… The thing in my head, my power, I don't think it's malicious, not exactly. At least not in the way you said you thought it was," Taylor said.

"Can't help but notice that you say this after the binding has been removed," I replied. I was skeptical, but not as much as I would've been a week ago. Sure, there was a mental effect. And sure, parahuman powers were remarkably similar to vampires of the white court, or some of the mantles that Ebenezar had told me about, but that did not mean they were the same thing.

"Quick question. Did you manage to bite him?" I said, changing the question.

"Bite him? This a wizard thing?" Glory Girl interjected.

I looked at her, after almost having forgotten her. I wasn't sure how. After all, she was rather attention-grabbing. Besides her aura, which literally begged for attention, she was rather attractive.

You know, for a teenager. A really attractive teenager.

"Well yeah, of course it is. Did your parents never tell you to never look a gift wizard in the mouth?"

"I'm not sure that's the right idiom," Glory Girl replied.

"Well, who exactly is the wizard here?" I said.

"So, when they say a wizard's bark is worse than his bite, is that because the bark is actually spellcasting?"

"I mean, I presume so," I said, as a dozen mosquitos suddenly landed on the tip of my staff.

"Is the blood still good?" I asked.

"For one or two days, last time I tried," Taylor replied.

"Good, that's more than enough time to catch this guy," I said as I grabbed a small plastic bag for Taylor to fly the mosquitoes into. On a whim, I decided to banish one of them, placing them in one of my pocket dimensions. Then, I mumbled a few words, and activated my tracking spell, the pocket dimension insulating it from stray magical energies.

It worked, and I felt a tug on the staff I used to apply my parahuman powers, pulling softly towards the southwest.

"Glory Girl, can you stick with Skitter here for a while? I presume she told you about-"

"Yeah, T here told me about magic," she replied. "Quick question though. Tooth fairy, real or not?"

"Real, and not as nice as you'd think. I mean, she takes your teeth and gives you a pittance in return."

"Santa Claus?"

"Very real, yet somehow also your parents."

"Ghosts? Bigfoot? UFO's? Mandela effect? Lizardpeople?"

"Yes, yes, no, no and yes but they're actually vampires."

"These vampires sparkle?"

"Not really, at least not the ones I'm familiar with."

"Good. I don't think I could've handled sparkling vampires," she said, relieved.

"Anyway, I need to get going, I have a tumor to contain and a Warlock to track down."

"Have you tried asking those tiny fairy guys?"

"Don't need to, I've got his blood."

"You know, I'd love to make a snappy remark here, but I've got nothing. Mind if I get back to you next week?"

"Sure, sounds like a plan," I replied.

I turned to Taylor again, and put my hand back on her shoulder. "Hang in there kiddo, the memory might not go away, but you'll learn to deal with it."

"I'm not sure if I believe that," Taylor said. I left them behind me, and walked back towards the giant tumor. Tecton had already gotten started, and I saw that the police was clearing out a bigger area, within which he was clearing space by strategically smashing buildings apart. Mockshow had decided to do the right thing for once, and was tearing down storefronts and breaking apart warehouses.

"Tecton!" I yelled out.

"Myrddin!" he yelled back as he walked towards me.

"I have a lead on our perp, you think you can take command here?"

Tecton looked around, his gaze passing over the hard-working cops, firefighters and other emergency personnel, all of them working according to the guidelines he'd set out, preparing for some sort of crazy impromptu tinkertech megaproject.

"Yeah, I think I'll manage," he replied.

***

"-so I replied: Do you want salt with that, or did you find your donkey cart?" Ebenezar said.

Revel started laughing, so apparently, it had been a rather funny story. "Reminds me of my time back in New York. I once spend four hours on a patrol before asking my boss why we hadn't been flying," she replied.

"Now this I've got to hear," Ebenezar said.

"Well, it all happened because I was having troubles with my dress," Revel said, already giggling before finishing her story. She must've been in a good mood.

"I'd just graduated from the Wards, and I had the new costume, and it was my first day in New York and, well, I got nervous. Anyway, I was a bit late, so I met up for patrol outside. It was a quiet day, so we just patrolled the length of Broadway and talked about everything and nothing. You know, the type of slow day office talk."

"Sounds recognizeable," Ebenezar said.

"Anyway, near the end of our patrol, there's this busy street we need to pass, but there was some sort of problems with the lights. So I ask her: Why don't we just fly over it? To which she replies-"

"Oh I'm not Alexandria, I just play her in a Musical," I finished her story.

"Wait, so you spend four hours-?"

"Walking around and having a heart-to-heart with Broadway superstar Josephine Villiers," she completed.

"Seems like the best possible outcome to me," Eb joked, and the two of them started laughing again. Which was annoying, because it wasn't even a joke.

"Hoss, how are things on your end?" he then asked, turning to me. I'd found the two of them by tracking down Revel's costume by a piece of string that used to be part of it.

"Good, Tecton has everything under control," I replied.

"I distinctly remember leaving you in charge," Revel said.

"And I used my ample leadership skills to delegate that responsibility to the guy that actually had any idea of what needed to happen," I replied. "Plus, I brought mosquitos." I held out the paper bag of blood-filled Arthropods.

"You know… normal colleagues bring donuts when they show up too late."

"And Hoss here brings solved crimes," Ebenezar said, and I could almost hear the pride in his voice. Of course, any pride in me was completely misplaced, except for the part where I'd done a great job in having an amazing apprentice fall into my hands.

"Mosquitos with blood," I explained, and I could see Revel start understanding what that meant.

"Skitter managed to hurt him," she said, smirking, although there was a darker undertone beneath it. Was she preparing for the upcoming violence?

"Meaning I can lead us right to our guy," I replied.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Somewhere south of the city, seems like he evacuated the moment things went bad."

"If he's fleeing the city in a car, it could be easy to lose him," Ebenezar said. A grim expression on his face. I knew what he was thinking about.

To track the Warlock, I'd created a thaumaturgical link between the drop of blood in the mosquito, and his body. Then, using the connection between the two, I could feel the pull on the blood in my largely isolated pocket dimension. However, I could also use the link to do other things. Blind him, paralyze him, even kill him if I were inclined to do that. In other words, never let a wizard get his hands on your blood.

"Luckily, my car is faster," I replied.

***

"Dresden, I'll have you know that this is completely against regulation!" Revel yelled as she was being pushed back into the cushions of her seat.

"Luckily, we're going too fast for the cops to catch us!" I replied, pushing the pedal down to the floor.

The Blue Beetle soared over the asphalt, nipping between the larger, seemingly more powerful cars around it. It was rather hilarious to see the other drivers surprised that yes, that was Revel, Myrddin, and another cape in a tiny Volkswagen Beetle soaring down the highway at about a hundred miles an hour.

"First of all, this thing hasn't been tested by anyone!" Revel said.

"Sure it has, we're testing it right now!"

"Plus, there's that damn aura of yours!"

"The internals are so crude, it's pretty close to unbreakable!"

"What do these buttons even do?" she yelled, pointing at the strange tinkertech buttons on the dashboard.

"I'm not quite sure…" I replied, quickly dodging out of the way of a rather bulky truck carrying some sort of flammable chemical in its tank.

"How far out are we?" Ebenezar asked as he was busy with one of the mosquitos, extracting the blood so he could work his magic with it.

"We should be catching up in about five minutes," I said. "Watch it!" I then yelled, as I swiftly swerved around a motorcycle, shaking the three of us in our seats.

"Good, so let's put the finishing touches on our plan."

***

I put my eye on the target, a blue pick-up truck that had seen better days.

"Hexus," I murmured beneath my breath as I launched wild magical energies towards the vehicle. At first, I thought it had failed, but then, large clouds of black smoke started appearing from the exhaust pipe, and from underneath the hood, and from a few other places I didn't know the exact name for.

The driver, our target warlock, started to spin out, flying over the tarmac before stopping in place. Halfway through the spin however, he managed to shoot out a fire-ball, right at the Blue Beetle.

In the split second between seeing its light, and the flames impacting my car, I made my decision, and started wildly pressing buttons.

Then, the Blue Beetle launched itself into the air, right over the fireball.

Because of course Squealer had installed a jumping function in my car. That made sense.

What she hadn't installed, though, was a landing function, and I was very happy about the tight harness that had replaced my seatbelt as the Blue Beetle landed on its side, denting both itself and the road.

When I managed to extricate myself from the seatbelts, I saw that the Warlock had also left his car. He looked Eastern European, at least from what I could see beneath the scabs and bitemarks left behind by Taylor's assault. That girl could be scary when she went all out.

"Myrddin, the guy pretending to be a parahuman," he said.

"Some asshole with self-esteem issues, I presume?" I answered.

The Warlock held on to his staff, a short piece of oak, blackened to near charcoal. Recently, by the smell of it. Had he used it in his ritual when things went wrong?

"The name is Kravos," he replied. "Tell me wizard, does the council know what you're doing here? Have you told them about the parasite in your brain?"

I took out my staff and my blasting wand, and made sure to hold my shielding hand in front of me. This guy had been weak, certainly not council material, but that was before he'd visited the all-you-can-eat people restaurant. Even he probably didn't know exactly how much power he had available to him.

"Tell me Kravos, do you really think they'd let me call myself Myrddin if they didn't know about me?" I said. "If the saying is true, then you must've had idiots for breakfast."

The man's face went dark, darker than it had already been. Behind me, I could hear traffic come to a stop. On the other side of the road however, people were slowing down to watch the cape-fight.

"Forzare!" I yelled out as I launched a punch of pure force at him. He held out his left hand, and I saw a chain of glowing shield bracelets before my force launched itself into his shield.

"I have to say Myrddin, you telling everyone about your equipment has certainly made creating these things easier," he gloated.

Turning my own equipment against me. Turns out there was a negative side to having a devoted internet following that collects everything you do and say.

"Wjerljocht!" Kravos yelled, before launching what appeared to be a lightning bolt at me. Luckily, I had my own shield bracelet, and though it was a heavy impact, it weathered the blow.

"Is that all, you pansy?" I taunted. "No wonder you wanted to be less impotent, though I have to say, most men stick to dick pills!"

"You think you're funny? Huh? You think you stand a chance against me?" Kravos yelled out.

"I think you're a loony," I replied.

"You filthy little-"

"Ventas Servitas!" I yelled out, sending a massive wave of air around the side. Hopefully, He wouldn't see the near-invisible attack coming, and only shield from the front.

Sadly, I was unsuccessful, as the idiot had apparently made his shield a bubble. Sure, it was cool, but it also cost like five times as much energy as just a flat plane.

"Grutte Brân!" he said this time, holding out his staff to create a large ball of fire in front of him, and pumping more and more energy into it to make it larger. Apparently, his plan was to overpower my shield in a single hit.

Which was going to suck, because that fireball looked way too big for me to reliably stop. Not that I wouldn't be able to block it, but the heat it created would burn me even if I stopped all of it, the fire washing around my shield and frying everything in the area.

I took a few steps back, and started pumping enough energy in my shield that it started visually shimmering in the air.

Then, Kravos released his fireball, launching it straight at me, and falling right into my trap.

I dropped my shield, took hold of my staff with both hands, and released my earlier banishment, placing Revel right in the path of the attack.

Before Kravos could do anything about it. Revel caught the fireball with her lantern, and absorbed all of the energy of the attack.

"Surprise!" she said with a smile on her face, launching all of the energy from the fireball, plus whatever she still had stored up, at the warlock.

As the ball of energy flew forward, smashing straight through Kravos's shield, and then into his staff-wielding left arm, I send a small amount of magical energy through half of the plastic bag the mosquito's had been in, giving Ebenezar, who had stayed behind, the signal that our target was distracted.

As Kravos was clutching his shattered arm, Revel flew forward, straight through the shattered shield, and gave him a flying kick to the face. Which wasn't as impressive as it sounded, since she could actually, you know, fly.

The kick threw Kravos to the ground, rolling over the asphalt, clutching his arm.

"You filthy bitch! You have no idea who you're dealing with!" Kravos yelled, and I could see him trying to gather energy in his right arm. Trying, and failing, for Ebenezar had managed to block off his talent using thaumaturgy.

"Who you are? You're just another idiot that thinks he can get away with treating my city as his personal playground!" Revel screamed at him, and I could see her hand moving to her hip, reaching somewhere beneath her kimono.

"Heh, you have absolutely no idea what's happening, do you? That thing out there? It is a beacon, a message to the world. You may have stopped me but-"

Before I could react, Revel's hand appeared from beneath her kimono, holding what looked to be a gun. Seeing it, seeing her with the enemy at her mercy and a gun in her hands, it reminded me of what she'd tried to do to MacFinn, killing someone just for being born with a curse to his name. I sprinted forward, almost falling over in my hurry to reach her, to stop her, when she fired her gun at the guy mid-sentence.

"NO!" I yelled out, dashing to her position.

I saw her, standing there, smiling at her downed opponent. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She motioned towards the corpse at her feet, and I looked at it, at the tinkertech dart sticking out of the man's neck.

"Tranquilizer you idiot," she replied.

I kept looking at the dart, unsure of what to say. "I thought… I thought you were going to-"

"Kill him? Like I was going to kill the Loup-Garou?" she said.

"Well, it's just…"

"That you were being an idiot? I've killed before, Harry, and if it's the only reliable way of solving a dangerous situation, I will do so again. That doesn't mean I'm some sort of madman with no respect for life." she said, looking at me the way she usually looked at Snaptrap. "Look, I get it, okay, you think killing someone is some sort of unforgivable stain on your soul. Well, newsflash for you, I don't give a shit. If killing someone and staining my own soul is what it takes to keep this city safe, I'll happily do it."

I held my mouth for a second, trying not to put my own foot in my mouth and say something stupid, or attempt to make an inappropriate joke. Revel was angry, probably had been since the Loup-Garou incident a few months back, when I'd disagreed with her judgement, and saved MacFinn's life.

Of course, at the time I objected, I had no reason to believe that killing him hadn't been necessary. Only the freak accident of a shapeshifting wolf triggering had made my choice the right one.

"Furthermore," Revel said, with the same angry look on her face. "I need you to tell me what, exactly, this Council that you were talking about is."

I swallowed. I'd completely forgotten that she'd been able to observe what was happening during the banishment, courtesy of a little modification I'd made to ensure she would be able to jump into action instantly upon returning to the real world.

"Well? I'm waiting here," she said, tapping against her hip with the dart gun.

"The White Council is an organization that has existed, in one way or another, since before the existence of the roman empire," an old man's voice said. Revel and I turned around, only to see that Ebenezar had caught up to us. In the distance, I could see a line of cars that had been forced to stop by the cape-fight in the middle of the highway, and people surrounding those cars. Some of them had phones out, but it was too far away to see.

"It is the largest worldwide organization of wizards, and works as the governing body of the wizard community," he continued. "As such, its main goal is, and has always been, to protect mankind from the abuses of magic."

"Magic? A whole organization of people like you two?" Revel asked, her remaining anger only kept in check by her rampant skepticism.

"That is correct. Magic, not parahuman abilities. If you want, you can perform a brain scan on me, and observe my utter lack of Corona's Pollentia and Gemma," Eb said.

"Except your techbane aura will, of course, interfere with any such scan, just like it would with Myrddin," Revel said. "Not a very good explanation Blackstaff."

"True, although I believe young Tecton found a way to shield tech from the effect," Eb said. "The other option would be to look either of us in the eyes."

Revel took the opportunity, and looked my old teacher straight in the eyes, just like I had done when we first met, and I'd still been reeling from my trigger event, as well as killing Justin.

A soulgaze was, observing from the outside, far less impressive. The two just stood there, and Revel stumbled for a split-second before looking up again.

"I'm guessing you're not entirely wrong then, unless this is another part of your power?"

"It's not, although I understand that it's rather hard to believe. If you want additional proof, just look at my apprentice in the same way, and you'll see the difference between a parahuman and a wizard." Eb replied.

"See the differences? I though you said you were wizards, not parahumans?" Revel asked.

"I'm just a wizard, he's both," Ebenezar replied, and almost directly, I saw Revel turn her head towards me, looking at me with her eyes of steel. Instinctively, I tried to avoid her gaze.

"Look at her Hoss, you owe her that much," Eb said, and I looked back at Revel, losing myself in her determined gaze.

I saw Revel, unmasked and weary, standing in front of me. In one hand, she held a bloody sword. In the other, an unbreakable shield. Behind her stood a terrible crucible, in which her armaments had been forged, while the ground before her was covered in corpses. Behind her, behind the crucible even, far in the distance, I saw her Shard, its slithering tendrils reaching her through her footprints.

Her eyes, her body itself even, looked like it had been forged by that same crucible, although I could see a soft core beneath the hard steel.

I looked at the crucible, and saw a young girl trying to carry the world, trying and failing as the world burned around her. Her failure had been to take too much upon herself. Later, after that, she had remade herself, forged herself into something that, she hoped, would have been strong enough. All so that others wouldn't need to be the girl that she had been. At the same time, she projected that drive of cold steel of hers onto others. I understood why she had reacted to Snaptrap the way she had done. And why she treated me differently. When we first met, I'd been goofing around, acting the way she'd expected one of the Wards to behave. It had been hard for her to categorize me. Thus, she'd decided to simply put up with my idiosyncrasies, chalking it up to trauma from a trigger event.

I returned to a world that was slightly less real than the vision, and saw Revel looking at me, shock in her eyes.

"What… what was that thing?" she asked.

"A Shard," I replied. "Some sort of extradimensional invader that wedged itself into my brain and gave me supernatural abilities."

"You mean I've got?" she said, her eyes turning to panic.

"One just like it? I'm afraid so yes, although yours is less pronounced than most I've seen," Ebenezar said.

Revel closed her eyes, quieting her thoughts, and taking some time to think. I let her, as Ebenezar went to check on the sedated Warlock. After a few minutes, when sirens were appearing in the distance, Ebenezar interrupted her thoughts.

"Before anyone arrives, we need to decide what to do with the Warlock," Ebenezar said.

"What do you mean? He's under arrest, it's up to the judge to decide what's next," Revel said.

"It's not that simple," Ebenezar said. "Like I said, the White Council is there to protect mankind from the abuses of magic. This is done according to the Laws of Magic, and the punishment for breaking the first law, Thou Shallt not Kill with Magic, is usually death."

"Death?" Revel asked.

"To kill, specifically, to kill with magic, it literally stains the soul. Once someone has started doing it, he will do so over and over again, his very essence changing by the nature of the act. That man there, lying on the floor? He won't stop, he'll never stop."

"So we imprison him, let him rot," Revel said.

"Perhaps…" Ebenezar said. "In the past, death was used because it is near impossible to keep a wizard imprisoned against his will, and because redemption is near impossible. With the creation of the birdcage however, he might actually remain locked up."

"Given what he's done, I think a birdcage sentence is definitely a possibility," Revel said. "I presume a sentence there will keep your Council happy?"

"I presume it will, yes,' Ebenezar replied. "But there's the Nevernever to consider."

"Nevernever?"

"Spirit dimension, any practicioner worth the name can open a portal there, that he could use to escape. I mean, unless Dragon created some sort of countermeasure," Ebenezar said.

"No need," I replied.

"Oh?" he asked, seemingly surprised.

"It's not just a prison, it's the prison. Plus, you need to take into account whose control it's under," I explained. "I mean, whose it's really under."

"Glaistig Uaine…" Eb said.

"The girl that calls herself a fairy queen."

"Wait, what does that mean?" Revel asked.

"When you make a portal to the Nevernever, then generally speaking, you'll end up in a place that's metahpysically similar to the place you left. In this case-

"He'd probably end up right in one of Queen Mab's prison cells, which means he'd want to go back to the Birdcage."

"Well, it's worth a try," Eb said.

"Good, then that's dealt with in time," Revel concluded, gesturing to the approaching cops and PRT troopers. "And Myrddin, I need to have a talk with you about that apprentice of yours. She's been breaking my rules."


	21. Prisoner Six Three Five

**_Interlude: Prisoner Six Three Five_**  
"Prisoner 634, codename Burnscar. PRT powers designation Blaster 6, Shaker 7, Mover 8, Fire and heat only. Individuals reading or viewing this log are directed to see page four and five of prisoner's file for particulars on powers. Reccomended protocols were properly carried out with a sprinkler system and a blindfold. Chance of escape following interment in the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center rests at 0.00032% with no gross deviations related to the prisoner. Within acceptable limits. Will be processed to cell block C," the voice said over the speakers. Covering the voice was the sound of flowing water.

Kravos forced his eyes open, and saw the mechanical arms holding the girl. She looked young, a teenager, college age at best. Cute, if not for the cigarette burns on her cheeks.

He also saw the oversized monitor, showing a CGI rendering of a face. Dragon, he recognized.

Still recovering from his slumber, he called upon his power. The Chicago Protectorate might have beaten him, but Dragon was no wizard. In fact, she was a Tinker, which meant she used high-tech tools instead. A simple hex would see him freed from these bindings.

"Flok," he said, sending out his energy, when he noticed the spinklers, sending water all around him.

"Prisoner 635, I'll get to you in a minute. Please don't be impatient," Dragon said.

Prisoner 635, that would be him. It was strange… he barely remembered the trial, since the PRT had kept him sedated for most of it. A smart move, for a bunch of normals. Then, using testimony from the traitorous members of his cult, as well as from several Thinkers, they'd condemned him to this place.

He would have escaped in the few moments he'd been awake, but they'd been careful to have several powerful capes near him at all times.

"Now, I know you've been dealt a bad hand Mimi, but that is not an excuse for what you have done. Anyway, Glaistig Uaine is in control of Cell Block C. She doesn't tolerate violence within her domain, but as long as you obey a few basic rules, I think you should be okay in there, because there are no other pyromancers outside of those she controls," Dragon said, almost motherly.

Burnscar just hung there, held aloft by the large mechanical grasper that had lifted her from the secure truck.

"Prisoner 635, codename the Culler. PRT powers designation Blaster 5, Master 6, Trump 3. Individuals reading or viewing this log are directed to see page two and three of prisoner's file for particulars on powers. Reccomended protocols, courtesy of PROT Underscore Myrddin were correctly carried out, with water flow from sprinkler system in constant contact with skin. Countermeasures seemingly effective. Chance of escape following interment in the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center rests at 0.00025% with small deviations in case the prisoner manifests a new Mover power. Will be processed to Cell Block T," Dragon said.

Manifests a Mover power, he thought sardonically, as if he was just another idiot with a parasite in his brain.

Soon, once he was away fromt his damnable overdesigned sprinkler system, he would be free. It would be trivial to escape from this place with his skills. After all, those fools had built it to contain parahumans, not Sorcerors as mighty as he was.

"What, you're not going to give me a little pep talk?" he asked.

"No," Dragon replied. "You killed over a dozen defenceless innocents, and relied on Behemoth's presence in New Delhi to get away with it. To speak frankly, I think it would be useless, since I'm estimating an eighty-four point two-three-seven percent chance that you'll be killed within the first twenty-four hours. Even in there, you are an acceptable target."

"You willing to take a bet on that?" he asked.

"Sure, If you manage to survive longer than twenty-four hours, I'll provide you with water and bread for the rest of your days," Dragon replied.

"I will be depositing you in the elevators now. You'll be provided with a limited amount of oxygen yada yada yada. Mimi, try not to burn anything on the way down because you'll asphyxiate."

The arms carried him away, shifting the vilainess in a different direction. She seemed resigned to her fate.

***

As his elevator slowed down, he could feel the water stop flowing, and his power returned. Power, real power, the type that was rightfully his. Yet not as much as he should have had.

He looked around the cellblock, and started mentally categorizing them. Sure, he could tear a hole to the Nevernever right now, but why would he? This entire prison was filled with parahumans, ripe for the plucking. Then, once he had absorbed them, all that they had been would be his. This was the birdcage, and these were all experienced parahumans that would serve him as a conduit to get to their abilities.

"Hey, mate, what's your name?" one of them asked in an Australian accent. Tall, muscled, shirtless, with unkempt long blonde hair, and the arms of his prison uniform tied around his waist. Gavel, he recognized. Good, the man would serve has his first name.

Kravos laughed, looking at his future meal. The man walked closer, serving himself up on a silver platter.

"Hey goaty, I asked you something," Gavel said nonchalantly, like he wasn't about to get his life sucked out through his forehead.

Reminded of the feature, Kravos stroked his beard, salivating at the thought of the next few hours.

"I am Leonard Kravos, and your next insult towards me will be the last action you'll ever take," he said. As if the man had any chance of survival, even if he started grovelling right away.

Suddenly, a man ran into the cell block from the entrance.

"Boss, we've got a problem! The queen is coming!" the new man said.

"I see…" Gavel responded, and he finally looked worried. "Pyrophage, do we have any coco left?"

"Three packets sir," a cape with an overly large mouth, and flaming eyes, responded. "I'll get right on it."

"What, you think you can just ignore me?" Kravos asked. "Do you even know who I am?"

 _ **"Yes"**_ a thousand voices called out.

Kravos turned around, and beheld true power.

Etheral, Ephemeral. Glaistig Uaine. He could see her, standing in the doorway. Her small form covered in a thousand shrouds, each placed to stop her power from radiating out, each failing to stop her mere presence from almost blinding him.

 ** _"We know thy name, Kravos, we know thy master,"_** she, they, said. As she spoke, he could see a thousand spirits, standing in her location, speaking with her as one. Around her, spectral capes stood at the ready.

This, Kravos knew instinctively, was not someone he could fight. This was not someone that could be fought by anyone.

"Poarte," he spoke, ready to leave. He would miss a meal, but he would live.

As he spoke, and formed his magical energy into a doorway, he felt, rather than saw Glaistig Uaine change position. She was standing in front of him, holding his hand in hers, and blocking his magic.

 ** _"Are you sure you do not wish to stay a while, warlock?"_** she, they, it, asked him.

"What are you?" he asked, more out of surprise than curiosity.

 ** _"I am the Queen of the Earth and of Continuation, I am she who pays the price. I am the seventh Queen and the mistress of this court. I am Glaistig Uaine of the court of the future,"_** she said, looking him straight into the eyes. He tried to turn away his gaze, but couldn't.

She was the Queen of the Earth and of Continuation, she was willing to pay the price. She was of the court of the future, seventh out of twelve. She had gained power and been chained because of it, and she had chained herself to gain power.

He understood how the woman had attained power in that moment. Or, at least, how she had started on her journey. Her power allowed her to absorb the ability of any parahuman killed in her vicinity. And where he had used his magic to take the power of a man, and attempted to take his power through that process…

The Seventh Queen had taken their powers, and with that, their very souls, into herself. A hundred powers meant a hundred souls. And then, from that point, she had somehow attained even greater power, carving out a fey kingdom beneath her mountain.

He looked around, and saw every single villain in the cell-block prostrating before her, and he understood.

Yes, she lacked the sheer numbers that the Summer and Winter courts had, but every single prisoner in this place had been brought here because they were too powerful and too dangerous for the outside world.

Yes, a being like the LeananSidhe was dangerous, but Acidbath? Teacher? String Theory? Those were not to be trifled with either, and there were hundreds of people here. Not to mention those who served her directly, who were part of her.

 ** _"When you meet them, tell my fellow queens that I shall be ready on midsummer's eve,"_** The Fairy Queen said.

"When I meet them?" he asked.

"You were about to visit Mab, were you not?" she asked, suddenly less self-assured, slightly more like a young girl.

Of course… This was her domain. To open a portal here, he did not need to wonder where it would go.

As he realized that escape would not be as easy as he had thought it would be, he fell to his knees, still in front of the Queen.

 _ **"Now, as for your master,"**_ the Queen said.

"My master?" he asked, not understanding.

 ** _"Your master, the enemy. He to whom the Walkers kneel."_** the girl said, walking around him, her gaze keeping him on his knees. _**"You did not even know you served him, did you?"**_

"Your Grace?" One of the men, Pyrophage, said. "Thy coco awaits."

Within his hands, he held a tiny paper cup filled with a steaming brown drink.

 ** _"Good, good,"_** she replied, a child once again. **_"Perhaps I shall make you my emissary, next time I have need of one."_**

"And the new guy?" Gavel asked her, once again standing, courageous now that his queen had her coco.

 ** _"He is of little consequence. You may kill him if he turns aggressive,"_** she replied, slowly sipping her hot drink.

"Of course, your Grace," Gavel replied.


	22. Chapter 16

**Of Wasps and Wizards, Chapter 16**

*Taylor*

Four-dimension limbs latched out, slithering beneath the man's bone-white costume. One of them, exploring, reached his face. Moments before they kissed, the man was ripped away, and almost immediately, the shard followed, sucked through an unimagineable hole. It was wrong in a multitude of ways. The way the Shard and the host had interacted, the way the Shard had assisted its host, even though the host behaviour was non-optimal. The way the Shard got sucked out through a break in between dimensions. Suffering and death were upon it, an end to an endless cycle that would go beyond the life of the universe, and the elevator dinged.

The thick metal doors opened without a sound, and I felt myself clenching on to the card on my lanyard, no matter how times I'd gone through that, I hadn't gotten used to it yet.

According to Harry, when he used his sight, it was largely visual. Same with his Soulgazes. Maybe it was because of my Shard, or a feature of my personality and my talents, but my vision seemed to be more abstract, less bound to the traditional senses of the human mind.

But even though my vision was different, one thing remained the same. It didn't fade. It had been three days now, and I still saw it in my head like I was right there. The entire thing was strange. Kravos, the warlock, had somehow interacted with Genoscythe's Shard, and through that, created some sort of analogue to a trigger vision in me and Vicky. However, that meant that what I'd seen was, at least partly, through my Shard's senses, and therefore infused with what was probably best described as its emotions. Problem was, they weren't really emotions, at least not in the way I knew them. Instead, they belonged to something far too alien for me to understand.

I stepped out of the elevator, and walked through the hallways, until eventually reaching the office I was there for. If anything, this reminded me of the times I'd been called into principal Blackwell's office, back at Winslow. Only instead of talking to a high-school principal, I had an appointment with the angry leader of the local Protectorate planned.

I stood in front of the door, which largely consisted out of frosted glass, with the word Revel spelled out on it in the same flowing type that was used in official PRT merchandise, the lines of the letters reminiscent of the paths her orbs took through the sky. I knocked on the glass, resisting the urge to tap out 'shave and a haircut'. It was what Harry would have done, if he hadn't decided on something like the Imperial March instead. Not doing what he would've done was probably the right idea here, although I couldn't really expect anything like a fair deal from the head of the Protectorate.

A green light suddenly appeared next to the door, courtesy of a tiny little LED. Then, it slowly began to open, having been unlocked from the inside.

"Come in," Revel's voice came from her office. By the sound of it, she was still sitting in her chair, meaning the door probably opened mechanically.

I obliged, and entered the room, feeling the door automatically close behind me.

Revel's office was… not how I'd expected it. For someone with a costume that was so obviously Asian, the décor looked remarkably American. Her metal desk had a computer, two neat piles of paperwork, and a novelty penholder in the shape of her costume. She had two mugs on the table, one of which read #2 boss, the other with a picture of the Chicago Protectorate, with a slightley different line-up. Going by the fact that Harry wasn't wearing half his equipment, and Snaptrap was absent, it was a few years old. The walls were largely empty, apart from a few posters, and a calender with a large picture of Bastion for the month of July. His racist outburst hadn't happened yet when they designed this particular hunk of the month calender.

"Sit down please Skitter," Revel said, pointing at a chair in front of her desk. She wasn't wearing her costume, instead limiting herself to just her mask and a casual dress. I obliged, and sat down on the chair.

"You wanted to talk to me?" I asked.

"I did," she replied, taking off her mask with one hand, showing me the lower half of her face. "I hear Harry's been teaching you magic?"

Sitting in front of her, I was oddly conscious of my own costume. I hadn't really done too much with it since I created it. Harry was going to help me put a protective enchantment on it, but the level of skill that that required was beyond me right now. What was the ettiquette here? Was I supposed to take off my own mask? That's what I'd done when I'd met with the Undersiders, back on that rooftop all those months ago.

"He has," I replied.

"I've got to admit… I really did not think he'd been telling me the truth all along. I'd get angry at him but but he didn't even lie."

"I'm guessing you figured it out?" I asked her.

"His old teacher, Blackstaff, gave me the insight I needed to understand I'd been an idiot all along."

"I hope you didn't take it as badly as I did."

"The Tattletale thing, I presume?" she asked.

I nodded.

"How is she, by the way?"

"Recovering," I answered. "She hasn't had any Thinker headaches since she, well, died. So she thought she wasn't going to get them anymore. But as it turns out, it's just that she couldn't feel them, so when they finally became too much, they hit all at once." I replied.

"Like when the adrenaline runs off after a fight, I guess?"

"Probably. I'd ask her, but, well…"

"I get it," she said.

I looked around her office awkwardly, not entirely sure if the conversation was finished or not. I didn't really think she'd only called me here to talk about magic, but she was letting a rather unsettling pause fall into the conversation.

"So, do you know why I actually called you in?" Revel asked after an awkward minute or so.

I thought about it, again, but still wasn't entirely sure. Was she angry about how I handled the Warlock situation? About involving Glory Girl in my investigation?

"No" I answered.

"I thought so," she replied. In other words, she asked a question that was roughly on par with 'do you know how fast you were going?'

I suddenly really didn't feel like finishing this conversation.

"Do you remember the rules I laid out for you? Back during the Hexenwolf thing?" she asked.

I thought back to the conversation. To be fair, it'd been just a few hours before I awoke my magic, so it wasn't something I'd been focused on, but I did remember us making a deal of sorts. Of course, she was in the perfect position to arrest me at the time, so it hadn't been much of a fair deal, but she'd basically ordered me not to take any pro-active action on my own. I hadn't thought much of it, since I'd been much too busy studying the books on magic Harry had been providing me with, but that rule had been there.

"This is about me trying to save Genoscythe," I answered.

"No, this is about you deciding to go after that Warlock on your own, even after Shuffle advised you to sit this one out," she said.

"Look, we wanted to call for back-up, but Victoria's phone broke down and we didn't have the time," I explained. I knew it hadn't been a good plan, attacking right then and there without a proper plan or back-up, but I couldn't just sit there and watch as the Warlock was killing someone.

"And that's not what I'm angry about," Revel replied. "I'm angry about the fact that you were there at all."

"What, so I should have just left Genoscythe to die!" I yelled.

"No, that's not what I'm saying, and you're not listening to me," she said, exasperated.

"Well seems to me like you're saying me fighting the Warlock was a bad thing!" I said, trying to calm myself down, and failing.

"Look, Taylor… It's not about you doing what you did in that situation, it's about you even being in that situation. You're sixteen, you shouldn't be in situations where you have to go in without backup to save someone's life!" Revel said, but I was barely even listening.

Taylor… She knew who I was. First Harry, then Amy and Vicky… was my identity just an open secret these days?

"Who told you?" I demanded.

Revel's hand went to her head, as if she was nursing a headache. "You do remember the part where I got you into those online classes, right?" she asked.

Oh, right. The classes I was following… It actually did make sense that she'd need my name to sign me up for those. I just hadn't thought about what they had meant, being too busy with my magical studies.

"Anyway… As I was saying, you shouldn't be getting into situations like that at all. If you had a lead, you should've brought it to Shuffle, who would've made sure a full strike team was sent out. You're young, and if I'm to believe Ebby, you have another three centuries ahead of you. I've seen where the path you're walking leads to, and trust me, you don't want to go there. Not now, while you still have your whole live ahead of you."

"So I should just let people like this Kravos guy do what they want?" I asked.

"No, but you should try to accept that you don't have to solve everything yourself. I've been in this game for over a decade, the Triumvirate for more than twice that. Ebby goes back several centuries. What I want is for you to actually ask for help if there's something you're having trouble with."

"But what if I can't? What if I have to act right then and there? What if me asking for help leads to people dying? You can't just always ask people to bail you out!" I said, half-yelling at her moralizing.

"If you can't, then you act, and you make sure you're never in that situation again," she replied, a dark mood on her face. "You're smart and inventive, even without magic, you should be able to figure something out."

I sat back in the chair, folding my arms. What she said made sense, in a twisted sort of way, but I didn't exactly agree with it. First of all, she hadn't even been there. Furthermore, there hadn't been a lot of time between finding the warlock and actually fighting him, and I was pretty sure that Shuffle wouldn't believe me if I said I had information from a fairy.

I decided to tell Revel that. She responded by smacking her hand into her face, making sure not to hit the area where her mask would have been, had she been wearing it.

"Taylor, we've known about Toot for a couple of years now. Had Shuffle known you had a way of contacting him, he would've taken your advice immediately."

"That's not the point," I replied. "Anyway, was there anything else?"

"Yes, although the topic is related," she said. "As someone who's been on both sides of Glory Girl's aura, what's your impression of her?"

"What do you mean exactly?"

"I mean you've fought both with and against her. We've had some… interesting reports brought over from the remnants of the Brockton Bay PRT. They didn't exactly have any evidence to go with them though, which is why I'm gathering information."

"Well…" I said, thinking back to the bank-job. The way she and her sister had threatened me and Tattletale. It wasn't something that reflected well upon me, and Lisa certainly hadn't been going easy on them.

But, I had to admit, I'd been absolutely terrified of them. Yes, her aura played a role in that, and I'd been more afraid of Panacea than of her sister, but depending on what Revel was going on about…

"I… It's hard to say exactly, and I don't want to rat out my friend…" I said, thinking about what to say. Glory Girl could be absolutely terrifying, and she seemed to be perfectly happy to break some bones in order to win a fight. Then again, after what I'd done to Lung's man-parts, I had little right to speak about someone going all out. Even if most of that had been the fault of Armsmaster's tranquilizer. "I'd say she can certainly come across as overly violent… but partly that's her aura, and partly that's her being a cape? I mean, she's not perfect, but she didn't do anything I wouldn't have done in her situation, at least I don't think so."

"I see…" Revel replied, and I realized that 'she didn't do anything I wouldn't have done' did not necessarily reflect well on her, given my own reputation, and Revel's anger at me.

"Well, then I think we're about done here," Revel said, and as I was about to stand up, she continued. "But before you leave, two things. One, if you pull something like this again, you're going straight into the Wards program. Two, the director is busy finalizing the recruitment of a bunch of new Wards. I'd prefer it if you came by in a few days to say hello to them, make sure there's no miscommunications in the field."

I nodded, and left, trying not to think about how much power Revel had over me, just by virtue of my past actions with the Undersiders.


	23. Director of the Venatori Response Team

**A few Years Ago**

Director James Hearthrow looked around his office, wondering how it had even come to this. Sure, it hadn't seemed like much back in college, but he almost regretted joining one of the most important secret organizations in the world. Almost, but not quite. He could barely imagine how confused he would've been if he hadn't been initiated in the secrets of his organization. Which brought him to the current situation, debriefing a trooper that had gotten into contact with the paranormal, and convincing her it had been a mere contact with a parahuman, all from the comfort of his Chicago Office.

"Officer Murphy? Come in please," Hearthrow said, putting on a smile for the distraught trooper.

"Director, sir," the woman said, giving him a quick salute with her head. "Is there a problem?"

"Nothing big, I prefer being personally informed about any new capes in the city. Have a seat," Hearthrow said, motioning at the comfortable chair in front of his desk.

According to unofficial PRT protocol, it was normal for the comfortability levels of a chair to be, at most, seventy percent of those of the director's chair. Something about playing power games with people you were talking to. Perhaps, he thought, some people just needed to have something in their life telling them they were powerful, especially when they spend their days working with people that could blow your head of with an idle thought. Hearthrow disagreed with the notion. First of all, he thought it rather childish and disrespectful not to allow his visitors some creature comforts. After all, he didn't even have to move for any of his meetings. Secondly, well, perhaps the overly comfy chairs would lure people into a false sense of security.

In this case, he just hoped it would calm the sergeant's nerves. She'd obviously seen something rather disconcerting, and it wouldn't do to annoy her further.

"What happened?" he asked as the young officer sat down. He'd quickly reviewed her file beforehand. She'd started in the police force, and gotten in trouble after being too capable for her own good. One of his own people had then managed to recruit her away from the den of corruption that was the Chicago PD. Unlike most of his veteran troopers, Officer Murphy and the others of her generation generally had no military experience, courtesy of cutbacks soon after Scion had started interfering in armed conflicts. However, there were a few notes about the officer causing general mayhem during CQC training, despite her diminutive size.

"I got a message from an old friend on the force sir, something about a kidnapping. He thought something was off about it, but his superiors disagreed. We were dropping by to see if we could help him out under the table when it happened," Murphy explained.

"The kidnapping, you're talking about the Astor case? They've been hounding me for PRT attention, I thought they were overreacting," he replied, letting her in on his side of the events.

"They were, sir, at least in part," the sergeant said. "Young miss Astor wasn't kidnapped, she simply ran away. We didn't know that though, so when we came across an unknown cape with the girl in tow, some of us reacted rather enthusiastically."

"Meaning you shot him?" Hearthrow asked, one eyebrow raised. He was proud of that, the ability to move his eyebrows completely independently. It had taken him some time, but it was worth it. It was one of the many skills that separated the good superior, from the great superior.

"Meaning Sergeant Johnson tried to shoot him sir, the cape did something with his staff, and Johnson disappeared into thin air," Karrin continued.

"Going by the fact that the flag out front is still raised, I presume that he did not, in fact, become thin air?" he asked. A cape with a staff, with the ability to make people disappear. Some sort of veil perhaps? He'd been quite sure there weren't any wizards in Chicago; maybe that had changed recently.

"No sir. The cape in question, he didn't give us a name, later released Johnson from his ability, some sort of pocket dimension he claimed.

"Some sort of blaster ability then? Shove people out of reality for a bit? Did you see anything about the mechanisms of his ability?"

"I'm not sure, but he waved around with his staff, creating some sort of glowing symbol in the air."

"When you say staff, you mean, like, wizard-style?" Hearthrow asked. "And if so, are we talking Gandalf or Dumbledore?"

"Gandalf, sir. I was about to get to that part of the story," Karrin Murphy said, continuing when Hearthrow motioned for her to. "We were talking to the new cape when the little runaway decided to, well, make a run for it."

"The cape, what was he like?"

"Let's see, early twenties I think, not ugly, but not necessarily attractive either. Thing is, he wasn't wearing a mask, just a big trenchcoat and a large wooden staff. Not even a hat or anything. I'm pretty sure the staff was made out of oak wood, but I'm not sure whether that's relevant or not."

"And his personality? What kind of person are we talking about" Hearthrow asked.

"I'd say he was a bit weird, which the wizard-staff made clear, but I've met worse. That said, he wasn't a very serious person, joked around a lot. Weird thing was, he seemed to become less serious when things got tense. He seemed to be a nice person, and he was bringing the kid back home when we came across them."

"An independent hero then?" Hearthrow asked.

"Of a sort? He said he was working with a private eye, something about manipulating the fundamental forces of the universe not paying the rent. Anyway, when we chased down the girl, we met this, well, the only way I could describe it as a Troll."

"Someone being annoying on the internet?" Hearthrow asked, hoping that his nonsensical bit of levity was actually correct. The last thing he needed was a Troll infestation in the city.

"Sadly not, it was some sort of massive Brute, maybe a Case 53 or something. He was more than ten feet tall, hideously ugly, and he wanted to eat the Astor girl?" the officer said, questioning the last part of her sentence. She probably wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't been there to see it.

"Eat her?" Hearthrow asked, faking incredulity. Eating children, while horrible, was SOP for Trolls. One of the reasons you needed to stomp them out whenever possible.

"Yes sir, he had her legs dangling above his mouth when we caught up with her. It was rather disconcerting."

"I suppose you managed to stop that from happening?" he asked.

"We did sir, or rather, the wizard cape did. He banished the girl in the same way he banished officer Johnson. After that, we opened fire on the Troll."

"Define opened fire," he replied.

"Riddled him with bullets, sir."

"Not exactly what the protocols advice," he replied.

"No sir, but given its apparent activities, and a lack of information about our newfound ally's abilities, we thought it prudent to act with maximum force, especially since there was no-one near the line of fire."

"Very well, although you shouldn't make a habit out of it. So, what happened next?"

"The Troll, it, well, do you know about those spiders? The ones that, when they're pregnant and you squish them, a thousand baby spiders come out?" Murphy asked, the disgust obviously visible on her face. Hearthrow was quite happy with his office job, one where he would probably never meet one of those spiders, let alone a troll hatching the same way. "You're telling me we've got a couple hundred miniature child-eaters on the loose?" he asked.

"No sir, the other cape, he mumbled something, followed by fire flowing out of a smaller staff in his left hand, neatly burning all the tiny, well, hatchlings."

"Fire too? Seems rather versatile, do you know what he said?"

"He said he was casting a spell, wouldn't explain what he meant by that. Like I told you sir, he was kind of strange."

"Capes believing their powers are magic are hardly anything new. Did anyone ask him if he was interested in the Protectorate?" he asked. Wondering whether or not it was an actual practitioner they were talking about, or just a parahuman with a versatile power and some delusions. Mumbling spells and the staff foci pointed in the direction of actual wizard, but temporary extradimensional banishment? That didn't fit with what he knew, especially if it wasn't just some sort of veil.

"He said he would think about it sir, but I'm not sure he was entirely serious. Then again, I don't think he's the type of person to ever be entirely serious," Murphy replied.

"Well, with any luck, he'll contact us himself. If not, continued friendly contact seems to be the way to go. Officer Murphy, you can go now."

"Yes sir," Murphy replied.

***

 **A few years later.**

"Mister Dresden, was it?" Hearthrow asked.

"Just Harry is fine," the young man replied.

Hearthrow looked at him. Brown hair, brown eyes, and rather tall. Not cape level tall, but someone who towered above others on the street nonetheless. He had a goofy smile on his face, and seemed to be in a good mood. The only thing that gave him away was that he kept looking away from Hearthrow's eyes whenever their sight met.

Which meant that he was either a wizard, or really shy. Going by his behavior, wizard.

"So, Harry, why are you here?" Hearthrow asked.

"Because I'm a wizard," Harry replied with a goofy smile on his face.

"What, exactly, do you mean by that?" he asked.

"That I have magical abilities. You know, fireballs, telekineses, tracking people by their hair, banishing them to different dimensions, conjuring the elements, that sort of thing," Harry explained.

What, exactly, was this man going for? Hearthrow asked himself. Was this Harry an actual practitioner, outright telling people he was a practitioner and offering his help? Was he a deluded parahuman? Was he both?

"And you want to join up? Become a member of the Protectorate?" he asked.

"Well, I was going to teach at Hogwarts, but as it turns out they just hired a werewolf instead!" Harry replied.

"And you are aware that magic is not, in fact, real?" Hearthrow asked him.

"I'm quite aware that most people believe so, but if it looks like a wizard, casts spells like a wizard, and has the greatest cat ever like a wizard, then its a wizard isn't it?" Harry replied.

"Or, as most would say, a parahuman," Hearthrow replied.

"Some people would say that, seems to me like its magic though, wouldn't you say?" Harry said. "I mean, I guess it doesn't really matter what you call it, I just think its a bit silly to deny the existence of magic."

Hearthrow thought about the statement for a bit, and its implications. Ominously, he saw the screen of his computer start flickering from the corner of his eye. That settled it, there was an actual wizard right in front of him, asking to join the Protectorate. That, or he was a parahuman with wizard-like abilities that just so happened to also include some sort of technology-destroying effect. So, in other words, he was a wizard. Given that, as well as his other hints, was it possible that the man was both a wizard and a parahuman? He'd never heard about it, and the Venatori Umbrum had quite a few sources spread around the world. Then again, though unlikely, it was bound to happen someday. Right now, the figure for urban environments was one in eight thousand for parahumans, and slowly rising. Thus, one in every eight thousand young wizards was likely to have powers. At least, discounting some sort dependence between the two.

That left another question, was Harry a member of the White Council? Probably not, if the Council had a parahuman, wouldn't they have notified their allies? Then again, if the Council had a parahuman, wouldn't they try to keep that a secret? Then again, if the Council kept their parahuman a secret, would they make him join the Protectorate?

The out-of-context nature of the parahuman phenomenon had meant that most supernatural actors were slow to pick up on it, with the exception of Mab, who had quickly updated her Accords when the Endbringers introduced themselves as a permanent fixture.

"All things considered, your views on the nature of your abilities aren't all that relevant to the case at hand," Hearthrow said, changing the topic. "What matters is the fact that you have them, and that you want to use them to help people. I do, however, have an important question. Being a part of the Protectorate means more than just being a hero, it means following orders, both those of your team leader, as well of those coming from the civilian oversight i.e. me. Will you be able to do that, even if you don't necessarily agree with them?"

The question, Hearthrow thought, was relevant in more ways than one. Sure, it was important that people could follow orders, especially in the heat of battle, but what mattered was how someone responded, because it told you a lot about them. Some people responded by saying yes immediately, either because they meant it, or because they were afraid that saying anything else would mean they couldn't join. Others, the ones that favored their own independence, would start with a no, after which Hearthrow would start negotiating in earnest. After all, if they really didn't want to, they wouldn't have applied to join the Protectorate. In many cases, it simply came down to people being afraid that they would be forced to go against their morals. Violent as their powers might be, most of the parahumans in Chicago didn't actually want to kill anyone, especially those with heroic intentions.

The third option was that people would give an answer somewhere in between, a 'yes, but' so to speak. That was where things got interesting most of the time, and where he could really get an insight into people's minds. Shuffle, for example, had said that he was technically willing, but unsure of his ability to do so. The man was intelligent, dependable and loyal, but only had limited control over his ability, something he kept informing any superiors about. Given what he had learned about the man's trigger event, he thought it had to do with Shuffle's tendency to take responsibility for everything happening around him. He'd gotten the power to enact change to a massive degree, but lacked control, exacerbating his issues.

"Yes, unless you want me execute Order 66," Harry replied, a rather annoying grin on his face.

A jokester then, and someone with an independent sense of morality. Not the type to take authority seriously. Given his track record so far, he would do what was asked of him, until he wouldn't. It wasn't a large problem, but it was something that would be put in the man's file. Fighting criminals? Yes. Fighting Simmurgh victims? Probably not.

"Well, unless there's space wizards in the city, I don't think that will be much of a problem. Now, we've got some paperwork to go through, but welcome to the Protectorate!" Hearthrow said, extending a hand to the young man in front of him.

***

 **Several months before Leviathan**

Chicago, Hearthrow thought, was a shithole. But, it was his shithole.

Unlike most cities, Chicago's underworld wasn't ruled by groups of capes running around and throwing fireballs at each other. Sure, there were gangs and villain teams, but the real problem wasn't with them. The real problem was the amount of corruption in the city. Cops looking the other way, projects running out of funding at inopportune moments, people that would swear they hadn't seen anything. Director Hearthrow was quite sure that his was perhaps the least corrupt governmental body in the city, even the parks department had shady deals going on.

What that meant, was that a man calling himself Gentleman Marcone had an almost free reign of the city, with interdepartmental tension stopping him from acting against the one criminal organisation without obvious parahuman support.

Sure, there were other groups active. Topsy was leading a group of smaller organizations, claiming to be the new king of the Folk. Bianca, leader of the local red court presence, was rapidly spreading her influence through the brothel industry of the city, and the Latin gangs had an ongoing civil war over who would lead them. His contacts within the Venatori Umbrum told him that the White Court was in possession of a rather large estate just outside the city, and a vampire of the Black Court had tried taking residence a while ago, before a Knight of the Cross had driven her off. But those were problems he could deal with. Marcone however, was practically immune to anything he could throw at the man.

Until this whole Three-Eye affair at least. Marketed as an enhanced tinkertech drug, it was a magical substance that opened the Sight of anyone taking it, leading to extraordinary hallucinations that stayed with whoever was taking them. In addition to that, the creator was using thaumaturgy to murder his way through Marcone's people.

Which meant he could start investigating these obviously parahuman murders in depth. If that meant he accidentally uncovered some rather problematic details regarding Marcone's operations, then nobody could blame him for going outside of his mandate.

Of course, the man sitting in front of him had a completely different opinion about the whole deal.

"Of course mister Marcone, but please understand that that is simply not how parahumans tend to operate. Why would anyone attempt to take down your business empire like that? Any Rogue would just be asking for attention from Watchdog, and villains are generally more varied, given that they tend to operate in teams. No, the most obvious possibility here is that someone is trying to take over your organization from within, eliminating your inner circle until they are at the top," Hearthrow lied. He was about ninety percent sure that the man responsible was a low-level sorcerer going by the unimaginative moniker Shadowman, and he had done everything he could to send the investigation into a different direction. It was a risk, but a calculated one. Sells would quickly burn out, or be caught by one of the White Council's Wardens. In the meantime, he could gather as much information as possible about Marcone's real organization.

"You insult the honor of my men. This is an external threat to my life and my people and you know it. I don't care what you are insinuating about me. Ask the Chief of Police, ask the Mayor, ask anyone in the city but your merry band of lunatics and they will tell you that I am an upstanding citizen that has nothing to do with any of this," Marcone said, oddly calm for someone talking about a threat to his life.

"I know, and I would never deign to insult your honor. I am simply doubting the integrity and moral values of your underlings," Hearthrow said, smiling at Marcone. Sure, Marcone was a hardass, but compared to director Costa-Brown, talking to him was almost relaxing.

His phone flashed, and Hearthrow saw a sign flash on the screen of his computer.

"I'm sorry sir, but I seem to have an active situation. If you wanted to talk some more, I'm afraid it will have to wait for another day," he said, leaving Marcone behind him

Go ahead, he thought. Spy on my papers, it's not like I have tinkertech bugs monitoring every little thing you do in there.

"What's happening?" he asked, as he met Shuffle standing in the hallway.

"He's done it sir, the madman's actually done it!" Shuffle said, overly enthousiastic.

"Explain?" Hearthrow asked.

"The murderer, the guy producing the three-eye, Myrddin tracked him down right to his doorstep. Revel told me to inform you that she's going in, it seems like they're busy with some sort of ritual."

Fuck. Sure, they'd caught their target. But they'd done so before Marcone's heart had been ripped out of his chest. Turns out there were negatives to having a Wizard in his employ as well. And if it came out that he'd been sending the investigation in the wrong direction… Well, there were ways around all of that. Perhaps, he could make the case look far more difficult than it had been, heaping praise on one of his newer team members? Myrddin was already proving to be ever more popular, a big mission like this could change him into a merchandising monster, giving the PRT more funds for their operations in the city.

Yes, that would so, he would turn a negative in a positive. There were always other opportunities to investigate Marcone.

***

 **A few weeks before Leviathan**

"Sir, I fixed your phone," Everett said, standing in front of his desk. The brown-haired boy seemed annoyed, probably because of Hearthrow's request that he repair a phone instead of work on tools that could smash skyscrapers into dust. Understandable. Ultimately though, him repairing phones was for the better. One of these days, he'd apply himself, and start figuring out a way to block Harry's effect.

"Thank you Tecton, damned thing keeps breaking," Hearthrow replied.

"About that sir," the young man said. "Stuff started breaking all around the office awfully close to Myrddin joining us, didn't it?"

"I noticed that, yes. And given the way he dislikes technology, I believe Myrddin noticed it as well."

"The thing is sir, you know how he keeps going on about how he's a wizard?" Tecton asked, catching Hearthrow's interest.

"Please don't tell me you actually believe him do you?"

"Well, it's… I tried to fix my stuff, make sure it didn't break down all that much, and the problem is that, you know…"

"What is it Tecton?" he asked.

"Well, at first I just used some basic techniques to make stuff hardier, make sure it wasn't mechanical failure, but every time I thought it was unbreakable, somehow the weakest link kept breaking," Tecton explained. "And, while I managed to reduce the rates of breakage, the effect remained."

"Go on," Hearthrow said.

"Well, it's a bit silly, but… I guess you can open your phone?" Everett asked.

Hearthrow looked at his newly fixed smartphone and opened it up with the little mechanism. Inside, he found some upgrades that Tecton had added to the design.

"Is that… water-cooling? Are you sure that's necessary for a phone?"

"That's the thing sir, it's a miniaturized water-cooling system, a microfluidic system designed for optimal grounding of energy. You know, heat and stuff. That, and… You can't really see them with the naked eye, but there's some stuff I etched into the circuitry-"

"You used circles and flowing water, and the effect stopped," Hearthrow interrupted. "Just like how Myrddin's abilities are blocked by flowing water, and how he uses circles for some of his stuff."

"Sir, I was wondering…" Tecton said.

"If magic was actually real? If Myrddin is an actual wizard?" Hearthrow interrupted.

"I mean, I know it sounds crazy sir, but it's just too much of a coincidence, what with the vampires in town and everything. Doesn't make sense if it was anything else, but the whole magic idea didn't make sense either."

"Look Tecton, the thing is…" Hearthrow sighed, wondering whether or not he had the right to take the young man in front of him down the rabbit hole. Then again, Tecton already knew about the existence of horrible creatures, of Endbringers and supervillains. "The thing is that magic is very much real indeed."

***

 **A few days after Leviathan**

"Sir, she can't be more than fifteen years old," Revel said as she stood before his desk. Stood, not sat, the woman was being angry and stubborn again.

"Bank robbery, assaulting a charity event, involvement in a gang war. I'm sorry, Revel, but it doesn't look good," he replied.

"She told Armsmaster she was going undercover," she said.

"In a team with a Thinker Seven? And you believe that?" he continued.

"I believe that those were her original intentions, yes. Later actions can be explained by the level of manipulation such a Thinker is capable of, as well as Armsmaster being, well, himself."

"Armsmaster being himself?" he asked.

"He's known for being rather abrasive, focused on his own achievements. He's not a people person, and not the kind of guy that could properly talk a teenage girl out of doing something stupid. Hell, he probably wanted her to do it, just to give him an advantage in the field."

Hearthrow put down the file in his hand, and faked a sigh. He agreed with Revel's analysis, the Skitter girl probably wasn't going to be a problem beyond creating a panic whenever someone spotted her power in use. Revel, however, had a weak point when it came to children, so she needed someone to oppose her when it came to teenage villains, and teenagers in general. If it was up to her, juvenile hall would be replaced with a hug factory. He had to admit she had a point, up to a point. Criminals were usually criminals because of their situation, even parahuman ones. Unlike supernatural nasties, teenage supervillains could generally be rehabilitated with a steady hand and a few stern talking to's. A girl that had lost everything when fighting an Endbringer that was suddenly trying to be a hero? He couldn't have set up better Revel bait if he tried to.

"What if it's a trap?" Hearthrow asked. "What if she's trying to lure us in?"

"To what end?" Revel asked. "You think she's taken a turn for the worse? Gone from making money to kidnapping capes?"

"Money wouldn't explain her attack on that fundraiser," Hearthrow said.

"Unless it was part of a larger operation, given that the reports say that two independent villains suddenly helped them out there. Plus, she did say she needed just a bit more information."

"Information that she ended up never giving to Armsmaster. In fact, it seemed like she was part of the Undersiders until the end."

"Except footage from the strategy meeting before Leviathan's attack showed that she was standing apart from her team," Revel said.

"Fine..." Hearthrow sighed. "I'll accept her vigilantism as long as she behaves. You can tell your team that she's not a target."

"Thank you sir, I'll inform everyone else."

***

 **The day of the full moon**

"So, who got you that belt?" Hearhtrow asked the tied up Hexenwolf sitting in front of him. The interrogation room was dark, a single light hanging from the ceiling above the prisoner, and another floating just besides him. There was a one-way mirror hanging on the wall, but no-one observing behind it. If there was, Tattletale would have noticed.

There was no response.

"It was your superior officer, wasn't it? Dude came out of nowhere with magic belts, you decide it matches your purse?" the little drone, Tattletale, said.

The Hexenwolf had an angry look on his face, and apparently, it was enough for Tattletale to make a conclusion.

"Yup, it's his direct superior. The people above that don't know about it, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing," Tattletale continued.

"What do you mean?" Hearthrow asked.

"Well, they're not corrupt, they're just incompetent."

"Tell me something I didn't know yet."

"Hmmm. Lemme see. Our buddy here is annoyed at the general incompetence of his organization. He accepted the belt, in part, because his wife left him. No, wait, not wife. Boyfriend? Disease or broken relationship? Both? Wow, is he even dead yet?" Tattletale went on, somehow figuring out all the man's secrets just from his responses to her speculations.

"Anything we can use?"

"Sure, couple of things. His boss says he has a bigger plan, although they're not sure what the bigger plan is, and he's afraid there's no real plan. They're targeting criminals they couldn't get to before, which means you should double-check for corruption in all the cases surrounding their previous targets. If they're panicking, that probably means they'll try to go out in a bang of glory, taking down Marcone. He's annoyed that I seem to be reading in mind, partially because of my criminal record, even though he thinks I'm one of Myrddin's constructs."

"So what, he turns into a werewolf with a magic belt, but doesn't believe in ghosts?"

"I'm wondering what he thinks about bigfoot…" Tattletale replied. "Quick question, is bigfoot real?"

"The forest people exist, if that's what you're asking," Hearthrow replied.

"Any of them passing as parahumans?"

"Possibly, although most of them are reclusive and patient. They'll probably try to pass themselves off as one if found by a hunter."

"Say, is it okay for us to talk about this stuff in front of this guy?" the dead girl asked.

"Sure, why not? What's he going to do? Tell people that the director of the Chicago PRT believes in bigfoot?"

"You've got a point there," the girl said. Obviously annoyed that she hadn't thought of it from that perspective.

"So, back on topic. Can you get this guy to give up the location of their base of operations or something like that?"

"Sure, easy-peasy.

***

 **The night of the full moon**

Hearthrow looked at the ruined mansion, and smiled. Perhaps it wasn't very professional of him. After all, he was supposed to stop parahumans - and Loup-Garous - from bothering the good citizens of Chicago. Then again, this was Marcone's place, and it wasn't like the man was short on money.

More interesting was the fact that the man's bodyguards had been rather well-armed. Wielding not just guns but a lot of the weapons that morning talk shows tended to describe as 'looking too scary to be legal'. Sure, they were more dangerous than what your grandmother used for self-defense, but compared to the weakest of parahumans? Then again, the PRT's propaganda department (or was it supposed to be PR? Was there a real difference?) was a lot better than the weapon industry's efforts.

"Revel, report," he said to the exhausted looking woman.

"Time-slows sir. The naked werewoman with the crazy eyes, she had a second trigger event that slows down time in an area for everything but the brain."

"Which you used to slow down the larger werewolf. Good strategy. What else? The morning news is almost starting and we need to do damage control."

"As theorized, the Hexenwolves tried to use the larger Wolf's berserk state to take down Marcone and his men. Made a damn good attempt at it too," she said, holding out a hand towards about two dozen corpses, littering the ground between the main battle site and Marcone's ruined mansion.

"Myrddin almost managed to stop things from growing out of control, but the beast broke out of his banishment when the moon rose. I think we have the Hexenwolves foamed down, but they could've gotten killed in the chaos. The girl with the smiley-face mask is also related to our wolf couple over there somehow, and I'm pretty sure she's the one behind the wreckages we've been finding."

"Do we have anything concrete?" Hearthrow asked.

"Not really. She tracked the Hexenwolves here, and she helped out once it became clear that it wasn't Marcone that was responsible, but people trying to get him killed," she said, almost sad about it. Knowing her, she'd have wanted to catch the girl and force her into the Wards as her personal redemption project.

"And what about the man of the hour?"

"Defended himself until we managed to talk to him. He still insists he's an upstanding citizen that's the victim of character assassination. Doesn't matter that he's obviously up to something, given that he had like fifty armed men defending his manions. I don't think there's anything easy we can nail him for, but-"

"But this entire thing could go very badly for his reputation, depending on the way we spin it. The werewolves, think we can recruit them?"

"The man? Maybe, but if he has as little control as it seems, he'll be of very little use. The woman though? She's wild, and madly in love. Put a little pressure on her fiancé and she'll be on our side, but it's up to you whether you're willing to go there. I'm not looking forward to working together with someone there against her will, but we need all the reinforcements we can get what with the vampires gearing up."

"Good. And one final question, why didn't you kill it?" he asked.

"I tried," Revel responded. "But Myrddin stopped me. Deflected the killing strike into its leg. It worked out in the end, but..."

"But that was a risk we knew about when we hired him. He's not the type to stand by and watch someone get killed, especially if he thinks they're innocent, or caught up in a bad situation. It is, however, something we need to keep an eye on. He's getting a lot of influence, especially with the Wards."

"Agreed sir. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get out of my costume and into my pajamas. I've got a Gray's Anatomy DVD waiting on me," she said, half-joking. She was tired, at least mentally.

"Go ahead Revel, on the condition that you in no way tell me about it later," he joked back, before making his way to the bloody naked couple.

The two of them looked tired and devastated, and the woman was holding on to the man in a desperation. They'd gone through hell tonight, and just barely survived it.

"Indecent exposure, trespassing, perhaps even jaywalking, that's quite a record you got there mister MacFinn," he said.

"You'll have to forgive me for not laughing, I'm in a rather grim mood," Harley MacFinn replied. It was hard not to recognize the man. He was rather famous as a conservationist, campaigning for national parks, forests, and other such things. High Society being what it was, that meant the PRT Director was quite familiar with the man, exchanging small pleasantries at one event or another for the past few years. Besides him, the wolf lady was hugging his arm in a daze.

"Yes, which is why I'm here," Hearthrow said. "Someone capable of a rampage like this every month is someone I need to keep an eye on."

"Thrice a month," MacFinn replied. "It happens about three days in a row." Obviously, the man had decided honesty was the way to go here.

"I see," he said. "And we haven't had any rampages before because?"

"Because I had a solution. A containment device that kept me locked up."

"I'm sure that's very comforting, but you're talking in the past tense here," Hearthrow said. As the conversation went on, Tera started glaring at him while one of his own troopers came along with a few emergency blankets to cover the two naked changers.

"It broke, a regrettable accident. I was getting it repaired when some ruffians pretending to be FBI agents kidnapped me."

"I'm afraid they weren't pretending to be," Hearthrow replied.

"Hey, Finn, this guy bothering you?" a girl's voice called out. Hearthrow turned to see a girl with a metal mask approaching. She was on the younger side of teenage, fourteen or so if he had to guess, and she was trying to be intimidating with her stance, hands on her hips and head facing straight forward. If he had been your average trust fund baby, it might even have worked.

"It's allright Mockshow, director Hearthrow and I were just having a talk," Harvey said as the girl came to stand at his side. The man put a hand on her shoulder, and whispered a quick thank you in her ear. Mockshow just looked happy the man was wearing an emergency blanket.

"So, your containment circle, do you have a way to repair it?" Hearthrow said.

MacFinn looked partially shocked at the revelation that Hearthrow knew it was a circle that was involved in the containment.

"I was hoping miss Parian would be able to help out, or perhaps one of your people if that doesn't work out?"

Hearthrow nodded. "Yes, that does seem to be a practical solution. There is, however, the legal matter involved," he said, motioning towards the carnage.

"Yes… I see… I presume that the courts won't accept my lack of control as an excuse?" Harvey said.

"If it comes to that… it will depend on the lawyer and the jury, but if you look at other recent cases of people without as much control as they thought they had," Hearthrow said.

"You're referring to the Canary case," MacFinn said.

"Yes, it's rather regrettable, the way the courts can turn on people."

"In other words, it would be better for me if this didn't go to court..." MacFinn said. He looked angry, something Hearthrow understood. He was playing politics, and MacFinn's freedom was one of the pieces on the board.

"It would, yes. Luckily, I don't think Marcone is going to try and take this to court, what with all the attention that would bring. Guns, grenade launchers, assault weapons, I'm not entirely sure all of this stuff here is legal…"

"Meaning it is entirely up to you," Mockshow said, as she and miss West were getting more angry.

"Meaning this is a situation in which I lost at least one of my men. Meaning that I'm going to have to tell his wife and children that he died on the job."

"You know I had no choice in the matter…" MacFinn said.

"What do you want?" West interrupted, baring her teeth.

"You," Hearthrow replied, looking her in the eyes. "Or something else that I can use to convince my superiors this wasn't a total loss," he continued, moving his eyes from the woman to the girl.

"Go fuck yourself," Mockshow said. West however, had a different reaction.

"If I work for you, you will protect him?" she asked, looking at her fiancé.

"I take care of my own," Hearthrow replied.

"Very well," West said.

"Good, we'll deal with the specifics later. For now, I have a crime boss to talk with," Hearthrow said.

Behind his back, he heard Mockshow make a rude remark. It didn't matter, he'd get his hands on her the moment they had something actionable on her, Revel would ensure it.

In the meantime, he made his way towards Marcone, who was commanding his men, taking care of the wounded and removing the rubble.

"Mister Marcone, how nice to meet you here," Hearthrow said.

"Director, it's been a while," Marcone smiled back.

"Can't help but notice you've made a bit of a mess of things."

"I've made a mess of things? It's your cape that tore down my golf course."

"Well, if you insist, I can ask Shuffle to try and put everything back where he found it," Hearthrow suggested.

"Or, you can keep your pet capes far away from me and mine," Marcone said. "If I remember correctly, your mandate covers parahuman crimes, not legitimate business opportunities."

"That's correct," Hearthrow replied. "That said, I can't help but notice some weapons around here that might not be entirely legal in this state, and it's still my duty to inform the mundane police about them."

"Of course, if you do such a thing, I'm afraid I'll have to inform some of my friends about your utter incompetence, allowing vigilantes and werewolves to assault me with impunity."

"And if such a thing were to reach the news, people would start asking why exactly some FBI agents would try to take you down," Hearthrow countered.

"And, of course, why there were werewolves in the FBI at all. They might even question whether or not it was because of the PRT's incompetence."

"Seems to me then, that making this entire thing official would be a case of Mutually Assured Destruction," Hearthrow said, internally chastising himself for doing what he faulted his colleagues for doing, making deals with the devil.

"That does seem to be the case, does it not?" Marcone replied.

It was a good deal, for now. It meant this entire event didn't turn into the massive shitstorm it could be. However, it also meant that Marcone had something on him. In the case that he managed to take the man down, Marcone would be able to reply in kind, convincing people that the PRT was willing to let parahumans murder people if it meant being recruited. He'd have to move more carefully around the man from now on, and that was not something he looked forward to.

The next time the FBI was being obstinate however, he had some new leverage to hold over them, perhaps some kind of oversight to make sure they correctly handled any 'parahuman' artefacts.

***

 **Two days after Behemoth**

Hearthrow looked at the children assembled in front of him.

These weren't teenage gangsters he was intimidating into giving up information about their parahuman bosses. They weren't parahuman teenagers either, although they did have superpowers, for a given value of superpowers.

The children assembled in front of him were faeries, or at least, half-faeries. Changelings, if he was correct.

Sure, they hadn't told him that, but the signs were there nonetheless. The two girls both had green hair, and even the nervous and shy boy moved with a measure of grace most people didn't have.

"So, why exactly did you want to join the Wards?" he asked, looking over the three teenagers.

Unlike most new recruits, at least those who came of their own free will, they didn't immediately have an answer ready. Sure, most answers were just a "to be a hero, " or "because my parents won't let me go solo," but they were answers nonetheless.

The Changelings however, were just nervously standing there, each of them waiting for the others to say something.

Eventually, the big, tall girl, spoke up.

"Well sir, there's these people that, you know, they keep harassing us. We used to have someone to protect us, someone strong enough to keep us safe on his own, but…" she stopped in the middle of the sentence, a recent wound then.

"New Delhi," Hearthrow said. As far as he knew, there hadn't been anyone important that died in the local accident. Discounting Genoscythe.

"He called himself Summer Knight," the girl said.

"And now, you hope that by joining the Wards, you would be safe from whoever is after you," Hearthrow said.

"Yes sir," the girl said respectfully.

"Which brings us to the most important question. Who's after you?" he asked.

The three of them shut down, and the girl stopped talking. Apparently, it wasn't something they wanted to talk about. Or rather, something they thought they could talk about without being thought insane.

"Let me guess, Lloyd Slate and his Winter Court cronies," he said, namedropping the individual being discussed. It made sense. The Summer Knight opposed the Winter Knight in all things. If these kids were afraid because the Summer Knight had died, then it was probably because the Winter Knight was the one they were afraid of.

"I… You mean you…" the teenage boy said.

"Know about the existence of the faerie courts? Yes, I do. It's my job to know that kind of thing."

"So you'll help us?" the smaller girl asked.

"It's complicated," Hearthrow answered. "After all, I can't afford to start some sort of war with the Winter Court, and I'm not sure the Queen will like it if I steal her subjects away."

"You're saying…" the Changeling seemed to transform, their hope draining out of them.

"I'm saying I can't accept Changelings into the Wards, because I can't endanger my organization like that," he said. "A bunch of teenage grab-bags from a group trigger however, that's a different thing."

"What do you mean exactly, sir?" the larger girl asked.

"What I mean is that I can accept you into the Wards, but I can't promise to keep you away from the Winter Court."

"I'm not sure how that will help us sir," she said.

Hearthrow sighed, and send a pre-written message from his phone. Several seconds later, heavy footsteps were audible outside of the office.

"Director?" a voice called out as the door opened.

"Tecton, come in. I'd like you to meet some possible new teammates," Hearthrow said.

Tecton was wearing a suit of heavy power armor thrice his own weight. Normally, he had it colored in a rusty-brown color scheme, with Brass highlights. Today however, he'd foregone the finishing coating, instead showing the titanium-iron alloy it was made out of to the world.

"Good day everyone," Tecton said, while the Changelings were looking at Tecton, or more specifically, the massive amount of cold iron gathered around him.

"So, we've got a small problem. The Winter Knight seems to like harassing these young Changelings, and the Summer Knight didn't make it out of New Delhi," Hearthrow said.

"And you're offering them protection? You told me it was a bad idea to meddle in the affairs of the Faerie," Tecton replied.

"Correct, which is why I'm not specifically offering protection from Winter in return for joining the Wards," Hearthrow said.

"I see," Tecton replied. The boy had done a lot of learning in his few years in the Wards.

"I'm afraid I don't," the boy said.

"It's pretty simple. If he offered you protection from Winter, he'd involve himself in the affairs of Winter, which could come back to hurt us big time, especially since most of the Protectorate and the PRT aren't really in the know," Tecton explained. "However, if he offered you a job where you spend a very large amount of time near people like me and Cuff-"

"Plausible deniability," the boy said.

"In a way, yes. That way it's less deliberately choosing to protect you as a specific group, and more us protecting our own. But you've got the gist of it …" Tecton trailed of.

"Fix," the Changeling said, giving up his name.

"And you two?"

" Meryl" the taller girl said.

"Lily," a soft voice came from the smaller girl.

" So, how'd you get your powers, and what exactly are they?" Tecton asked.

"We're changelings, we have them from our parents," Meryl said.

"No," Tecton said. "You're parahumans, here to join the Wards. So how'd you get them, and what are they?"

"I was thinking group trigger," Hearthrow said. "Explains that there's three of them, and that they're grab-bags."

"Four," Lily said.

"Ace disagreed, he didn't want to come along," Meryl explained.

"Are you sure group triggers will work? Aren't they usually enemies? I mean, that's what the guy in the 103 course said," Tecton asked.

"It's fluid enough that people won't ask too much, we're talking back-up plan anyway. Something to tell the other Wards."

"Then it's probably best to keep it both simple and relatively true," Tecton said.

"A trigger event… I think we have some stuff worthy of those," Meryl said.

"Good, just make sure you're all on the same page there. Now for the good part, powers," Tecton continued.

"I'm half Troll," Meryl said. "So, Brute I guess."

"My mother was a Nixie," Lily said, nervously intertwining her fingers. "I can sing pretty well, but nothing like her."

"So, minor master effect? Which is probably better than a major one, given the problems a singing master can get into," Hearthrow said.

"Fucking bullshit, that entire case," Tecton replied.

"Fix?" Hearthrow asked.

"I uhm… I can repair cars," he said. "And I guess I can do some glamours. I'm not very good at them though."

"That, plus what I assume is at least some form of supernatural agility?" Hearthrow asked.

"A bit," Fix said. " Not much though. I've got two very graceful left feet."

"Doesn't matter, we'll think of something. People tend not to look beyond the obvious, and if necessary, I can build you something that might help you out. Remember, most people won't think twice about a parahuman with lackluster powers, they'll just be happy you're not a new Nillbog," Tecton reassured the boy.

Hearthrow smiled. If all went right, he'd have his hands on three new Wards, without having to resort to making deals with Winter. At least, he hoped it'd work out. If not, however, he always had the nuclear option. The best part of being the director of Department #4, instead of just being another member of the Venatori Umbrum, was that he was only a phone call away from Protectorate back-up. No, scratch that. Triumvirate back-up.


	24. Ghost-Hunting: Skitter

**Ghost-Hunting: Skitter**  
*** Three days before Halloween ***

"So, while the light is still green right now, you should still try to anticipate and figure out what you'll do of it turns yellow," Michael said. "That way, you won't be faced with indecision if it does.

"It's not going to turn yellow, there's no cars in the other directions," I replied, keeping my hands firmly on the steering wheel.

"Agreed, but what if there's less visibility and you don't know whether or not there's other traffic?" he said.

"I'm using my bugs, I always-" I responded.

"Cheater!" the nun in the back seat interrupted happily.

"I'm the cheater? We're not even touching the ground when you drive! You don't even make corners like a normal person!" I jabbed back at her. Risen, formerly known as Rune, just smiled at me, far too happy with her power-applied driving skills.

"Eyes on the road!" Michael said.

"I literally have at least for thousand eyes on the road right now!" I replied.

"And unless you're in costume, the cops don't know that," he said. "And take a left here."

"But Fugly Bob's is to the East!" Risen complained.

"I didn't know nuns were allowed to say that word," I said as I readied myself for the next turn. A quick check with my bugs told me that the coast was clear, except for something moving in our direction from the edge of my range.

"Let's take a quick break," Michael suddenly said after our turn, and I parked the car, using my bugs to ensure I stayed in the lines of the parking spot. If Michael Carpenter suddenly wanted you to stop driving, it was probably a good idea.

"But I'm hungry," Risen complained.

"The Lord will provide," Michael replied, and I wasn't entirely sure whether it was a joke or not. Knowing him, a Taco truck could appear out of nowhere at any moment.

As we left the car, I felt the presence come closer. I couldn't figure out the exact shape, but from what I'd seen of her, this was probably Mockshow, riding one of her minions.

Not a minute later, my suspicions we confirmed, and a panicked looking Mockshow, wearing civvies and her mask, came around the corner on a twisted car wreck. I saw that she'd used the rubber of the wheels as padding for the legs, and the upholstery of the seats as cushioning.

"Mister Carpenter!" she yelled, and I managed to cover myself in bugs before she came close enough to see my face. One of these days, I'd figure out a veil to hide it, but until that point, I'd have to rely on liberal application of bees. Both Michael and Catherine had no secret identity, for different reasons, but I didn't want Chicago's biggest hooligan to have confirmation of my identity if I could help it.

"What's wrong Oli... Mockshow?" Michael asked with an eye on me and Risen. Did he know Mockshow personally?

"Well... You know that old mansion a few miles north of here? The one people think is haunted?" she said.

"I know the one... What did you girls do this time?" Michael asked, a worried look on his face. You girls? Was Mockshow part of a group somehow? If so, I hadn't been notified. I'd have to ask Tattletale about it.

"Well... Turns out it's actually haunted!" Mockshow said.  
"Define haunted," I said. I'd read up on a bit of everything the last few months, and ghosts were one of the things I'd studied. The problems with ghosts, I knew, was that there were so very many different types of them. While all of them were, generally speaking, the psychic footprint of a dead person, Tattletale was a very good example of the rules not applying. Weaker ghosts were just phantoms, while more powerful spirits could take on substantial forms, drawing forth ectoplasm to form a body, and interacting with the mortal realm.

A Wraith was one type of special ghost. Without purpose of memories, a wraith was an empty spirit that devoured other shades in order to grow. Once grown enough, a wraith could gain the power it needed to interact with people, as well as with other spirits. Weak of will and relatively mindless, the books Ebenezar had lend me had told me of practitioners using wraiths as spiritual attack dogs, throwaway minions that could wreak general havoc.

More dangerous were the Lemurs. Rather than losing their mind, Lemurs were ghosts that had chosen to go evil, and were an order of magnitude more dangerous than Wraiths, mostly because they were active participants in battle.

Lemurs, however, were almost nothing compared to Specters. More powerful, and often dangerously insane, Specters hunted down and killed people. Like serial killers, but dead. Not entirely coincidence, because many serial killers left Specters behind.

Making all of that more complicated, was the fact that those categories weren't really natural law or anything. Strength and other such things varied between ghosts, with age making a spirit more and more powerful. That was, apparently, one of the reasons that ancient Indian burial grounds were so haunted. Not because the spirits were crazy or aggressive, but because they were old.

"Like I said, Haunted. Ghosts," Mockshow said.

"Spectral appearances? Moving objects? Cold air? Strange noises?" I asked, trying to be more clear.

"Yes!" Mockshow said, very helpfully.

"Is anyone in danger?" Michael asked, skipping ahead to the part he thought was important.

"Don't know… Everyone got out, but Judy's not responding to anything… She's not hurt or anything, just… I don't know…" Mockshow said.

Michael glanced in my direction. "Can you take a look?" he asked.

"I'll try, but, I can't promise anything," I replied.

"Good," he nodded, and I went back to the car, I saw him walk towards Mockshow. "And you…" he said, almost threateningly, before putting a hand on her shoulder. "Need to install blinkers on that mount of yours. It's a safety hazard like this."

"Yes sir," Mockshow replied, being rather uncharacteristically polite.

***

The MacMorgain manor was an old, dilapidated wooden mansion, half the wood rotting, the other half already rotted away. If you asked the people around here why it had been abandoned for so long, they'd probably give you a hundred different explanations. Perhaps they would tell you that it's part of a financial scam by a rich businessman trying to evade taxes, or perhaps there was industrial pollution and re-building anything here would be too expensive. The true reason however, was readily apparent. The place was haunted, and from the feeling of it, it was haunted by a powerful ghost.

Standing outside the front gate, my bugs covered the entire estate. A small wood, with a pond that approximated a swamp, three stories, each of them filled to the brim with spiders and cobwebs, and a cellar filled with…

I had to admit, I wasn't entirely sure of it, and I surely hoped it was something else. But from what my bugs told me… the cellar was filled with small bones. Human bones. Children's bones. What the hell had happened here? From what I could feel, the cellar was locked away from view to people, except for a hole in a plank on the first floor, torn by what must have been Mockshow's mount.

"Place gives me the creeps… And I've seen Cricket's trophy room," Risen said, standing next to me.

"I… I think it's actually even worse than you think," I replied.

In the corner of my eyes, I could see mister Carpenter talking to a blonde girl with a with dyed streaks in her hair. He seemed to be disappointed, while she was angry. It kind of reminded me of discussion with my dad. Was that how Mockshow knew Carpenter? Was she friends with his daughter? Small world, the Chicago cape scene. Then again, I'd somehow known Shadow Stalker's civilian persona as well.

"Skitter?" Michael said, his voice suddenly reaching our ears, even though he wasn't yelling. He had a good voice for stuff like that.

I walked towards them, my mask now attached firmly too my face, and my new cloak covering my body. Inspired by Harry's design, combined with the official apprentice robes he'd shown me. Made out of bleached light-grey silk, the cloak's hood covered my face, and stopped just above my knees, with sleeves protecting my arms. The front was open, normally allowing anyone to see my armor as Skitter, but right now just showing any onlookers a shirt from an obscure hipstery band that Lisa liked. She'd ordered the shirt before realizing she wouldn't be able to wear it, and somehow it'd made its way into my closet.

Besides being made from black widow silk, my cloak also contained inscriptions similar to those Harry used to reinforce his gear, and whereas before I had simply assumed I would be largely bulletproof, right now I was sure certain of it, one of the PRT-troopers had helped me test it.

Next to Michael, leaning against a car, sat the victim in question. A girl only a year or two younger than me, Judy looked pale, and she was sweating with her eyes closed. I went into a squat beside her, and opened up my senses. Not too much, not fully using my sight, but enough to get a bit of a read on the magic in the area.

One of the… disadvantages, I'd noticed since getting rid of the binding was that my senses extended so far. In this case, that meant that I could sense, for lack of a better word, what was happening in the old mansion, as well as what had happened to Judy.

The mansion itself was steeped in darkness and blood, and I got a quick look at it before making my bugs retreat, thus protecting me from what was in there. Given my general luck, the ghost responsible for whatever had spooked Mockshow was probably the person responsible for the corpses hidden in the basement.

Once I could no longer see inside the mansion, having evacuated the spiders, flies, cockroaches and other crawling things within the rotting wood, I fully opened my third eye, and took a good luck at Judy.

She was… not as carefree as I'd expected her to be. Her general condition reminded me somewhat of myself, but instead of school, it had been her home life she had not been happy about, and she had found an escape of sorts with her friends. Right now however, it looked like someone had taken a knife to her, slicing through her eyes, and leaving seeping wounds across her body. Metaphorical wounds, but wounds nonetheless. However, the damage was largely superficial, something she would eventually recover from, I was pretty sure. The worst was already over, and she had friends here to take care of her.

Which left whatever had done this to her. I closed my third eye, trying not to think about Harry calling it my ninth, and looked up only to see a small horde of teenage girls surrounding me. Just for a second, I thought back to the last time this happened, outside of mister Gladly's class. This time however, they weren't here to hurt me. Instead, they wanted my help.

"She's hurt, mentally, but she'll recover. Get her some hot coco, hold a slumber party or something, and stay close to her," I said, and I saw the relief spread on their faces. Strangely enough, I couldn't exactly share those feelings. I wasn't quite sure what I was feeling. Jealousy? Heart-ache?

"Skitter, any advice on this ghost thing?" Michael asked.

I stepped away from the girls. Somehow, even though they weren't that much younger than me, I didn't feel like this was something to say where they could hear it. When I'd limited my audience to Michael, Risen and Mockshow however, that feeling seemed to disappear.

"Something happened in this place. My bugs found children's bones in a hidden basement, and I'm afraid it's just as bad as that sounds. Good thing is, they're old, all the flesh long removed. Bad thing is, that means that whoever is responsible for this, has been dead for a long time."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Risen asked.

"Not exactly… Ghosts tend to get stronger over time, and I'm guessing it's been a couple decades here," I explained.

"So, big strong ghost. Sounds like a problem. How do we hit it?" Mockshow asked.

"You don't. I do," Michael said. "Skitter, how sure are you that the culprit and the ghost are linked?"

"Without knowing anything about the case? It's possible it's one of his victims, but I don't think the attack on Judy matches up with them. It was a girl getting mauled, not an abusive adult," I replied.

"I see…" Michael said, before becoming silent for a few seconds. Was he saying a quick prayer?

"Risen, you're covering the back-line. Be ready to evacuate everyone here if this goes sideways. Mockshow, I need you to send your minion along with me, I might need something to quickly break through rotting wood. Skitter, you're on overwatch. Make sure nothing sneaks up on us, and see if you can try to make sure of the spirit's identity. Also, help out Mockshow with controlling her minion, and help out in communication."

"Yes sir!" Risen said suddenly turning professional. Well, assisting Michael in missions was actually her job, so it made sense in a way.

"You need help with your minions?" I asked.

"Mostly line of sight," Mockshow said. "I can control them, just don't really know what they're seeing if I can't see it. Can't see through their eyes, not that they have them. Stuff like that."

"You ever try installing cameras on it?" I asked.

"Not really, that shit's expensive…"

"Weren't you hanging out with a millionaire werewolf or something?"

"Good point…" Mockshow replied. "I'll ask mister Carpenter about it. How'd you meet him anyway? I know you're a fucking biblical plague in human form and everything, but you never struck me for overly religious."

"He's a friend of Myrddin's," I replied. "It's a wizard thing."

"Right…" Mockshow replied. Whatever else, she probably wasn't entirely convinced about the existence of magic. "Love the cloak by the way, but why isn't it red?"

"Why would It be red?" I asked. Was she referring to me being overly violent or something?

"Red riding hood? You fought those small werewolf guys right?" Mockshow replied.

"Hexenwolves, yeah," I replied, as Michael was making his way up the lane towards the mansion, sword in hand, softly glowing. I made my bugs enter the mansion again, and grabbed an energy-seeing charm, softly chanting the words I needed to make invisible energies visible. Slightly more advanced than the one I had used for radiation back in New Delhi, this one allowed me to get what could best be described as a three-dimensional map of energy around me. Heat, electricity, heavy chemical potential like in batteries or gasoline, that sort of thing. I'd shown it to Harry, and when he tried it, he said it gave him far too much of a headache. Ebenezar, who had come by for some business in the city he wouldn't tell us about, had used it without many problems, and after discussing it with Tattletale, they'd decided it probably had something to do with my Shard allowing me to process ludicrous amounts of data, something Harry's mind was not yet capable of. Susan however, had decided it was because men couldn't multitask.

Seeing Michael work however, was impressive. He didn't prepare, didn't take a sneaky path in. He simply walked up to the front door, slammed it open, and didn't flinch as it fell to the ground afterwards.

He walked forward, stood in the middle of the room, and spoke.

"Show yourself," he said, energy blazing forth from his holy blade.

Within seconds, I felt the darkness surrounding the old mansion come together, a half-solid shape congealing in front of Michael, a short knife in its hands, and what looked like…

The ghost, specter, wraith, whatever that was standing in front of Michael was missing half its face, slowly seeping ectoplasm from what must have been a burn. It was a ghost with a wound, but in addition to that, it was a wounded ghost. What looked like barbed wire, made out of the foulest black, was wound around it's torso, cutting into it with every movement.

Michael's blade flared up even more, containing a near limitless amount of energy, and he held it out in front of him. The ghost lept forward, knife at the ready, slashing at his enemy with the spectral blade.

Almost without even trying, Michael sidestepped the mad specter's attack, hitting him in the back of the head with his pommel as he passed the knight. Michael turned around, two-handing the sword and bringing it over his head, ready to split the mad ghost cleanly in two. The ghost, whoever it was, responded by melting through the floor, reappearing in his psycho-killer basement.

"Break through the floor," Michael commanded, and as I relayed his orders to Mockshow, I spelled a message out on the floor in front of him. The basement is his place of power.

Michael read it, but ignored it. Given the absurd amount of strength in his blade, I could see why he wasn't worried about a single ghost. Or perhaps, it was because the amount of danger didn't matter, and he would've gone down there anyway.

Mockshow's mount smashed a hole through the floor, and jumped down, landing on wooden splinters. Less than a second later, Michael followed, blade in hand.

Again, the specter lunged at him with its knife, but this time, Michael caught its hand in his own, the blade just between two fingers. Then, holding on to the spirit, he brought down his blade, vanquishing his enemy.

Slowly, I could feel the energy surrounding the old mansion start dissipating, clearing up the air after a thunderstorm, so to speak.

"I think it's done," I said.

"Well, that was awfully anticlimactic then…" Mockshow replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know… I was thinking, maybe a big light-show or something? Or the mansion falling apart now that it's dark master has been destroyed?"

"Don't say that! That's just asking for something bad to happen," Risen said.

"What, you mean like someone using some sort of enchantment to rile up an old spirit and make it attack people?" I replied.

"See Mockshow? See what dark tidings your actions have wrought?" Risen said.

"Dark tidings, really?" Mockshow replied.

"I'm trying to be more, you know, theatrical and shit. You know, Thou shalt not instead of You shouldn't."

"Guess it fits the outfit. Why do you wear that anyway? I'm pretty sure Halo doesn't dress like a nun."

"First of all, Halo is a baptist, I'm Catholic. Second, because it's fucking cute?" Risen replied, twirling around in place to show off her skirts.

Cute Nazi Nuns with superpowers, just what I needed in my life.

"So… what do we do now?" Mockshow asked.

"Continue driving? I need to complete my fifty hours so I can get my provisional," I said.

"So, do they put, like, a little picture of a spider on there?" she asked.

"I'm not quite sure," I admitted. "How about you?"

"Technically counts as a horse," she said, waving her arm towards the mansion, from which her metal minion was returning. "I can ride anywhere on the public roadways, excepting expressways and some highways."

"You don't need a license for that?" I asked.

"Nope, I could even text and drive if I wanted to!"

"Don't," I said.

Risen and Mockshow went silent, and we waited until Michael returned from the mansion, having climbed up the rubble path left behind by the construct.

"Skitter, can you inform the PRT about what happened?" he asked.

"Sure," I said, suddenly remembering my conversation with Revel three months ago. Would Revel get angry about this?

"And tell Revel I asked for your help, that should get her off your back," he continued.

I hoped it would work, but I wasn't entirely sure about it. Plus, I'd have to figure out what exactly was going on that made this spirit go crazy all of a sudden, because I did not believe that Mockshow and her crew were the first people ever to enter this old place. Something had changed, and that something had been done intentionally. By whom? For what reason? How? I didn't know, but with Harry's help and a combination of Bob and Lisa, I had everything I needed to figure out just what was going on.


	25. Ghost-Hunting: Victoria

**Ghost-Hunting: Victoria**

 _*** 2 days before Halloween ***_

"I'm just saying, there's solutions beyond punching," Tattletale said.

"Theoretically speaking, I agree. But there being other solutions does not mean that punching is not the best solution," Victoria replied, demonstrating her point by touching the tips of her ghost-dust infused boxing gloves together.

"Pfft, typical meathead"

"At least I have a head. Tell me, were you actually smart before you got your power?"

"Says the girl whose main power is never getting acne."

"Are you jealous of my perfect skin, or of skin in general?"

"Low blow Gloryhole, low blow."

"How could it be a low blow? We're two thousand feet of the ground!"

"Yeah, about that…" Tattletale said. "Why are we looking for ghosts in the sky again?"

"Because everyone else is down below," Victoria replied, pointing to the city below them, a hand held down to stop the glare of the sun, reflecting from the roof of a nearby skyscraper. In the distance, she could see the massive concrete containment unit, holding Genoscythe's remains. City government was still debating what to do about it, with ideas ranging between transporting them away with trucks, to burning them, to waiting until someone with the right power came along to help out. For now, Tecton's air-tight megastructure kept the rotting meat from polluting the area. "Basic flyer tactics, start in the places where no-one else can go. It'll give you a good overview, and a perspective that others do not have."

"Yeah, except it's daytime, and we're looking for ghosts," Tattletale said. "Ghosts don't fly two thousand feet above the city."

"Look in the mirror will you," Victoria replied. "Anyway, I haven't seen you come up with a better idea."

"What about waiting until nightfall? When the spirits actually come out?"

"Problem with that," Vicky said. For a high-level Thinker, Tattletwat could be such an idiot. "You're a ghost, you're here now."

"Because I have a sanctum. Something I can use to protect me from the sun. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm the only one of my kind flying around."

"So, where do the other ghosts go? Do they just disappear during the day, or are they in their own sanctums?"

"Natural sanctums, places to hide… Graveyards, that sort of thing," Tattletale said.

"So, why are we not checking out those places?" Victoria asked her.

"Good question, actually. Probably cultural impetus, letting the dead rest, that sort of thing."

"But, since the entire problem is that the dead aren't resting anymore," she said.

"So, you want to go around looking for the restless dead?"

"You happen to see any graveyards?"

"Well, I know where they are, which is what you mean," Tattletale said, being her wonderful obnoxious Thinkery self.

"Then let's go!"

***

"Hey, wanna hear a joke?" Victoria asked.

"Around here? really?" Tattletale answered.

"So a flying superhero and a mechanical Thinker are floating through a graveyard."

"Cemetery"

"What's the difference?"

"Graveyard is attached to a church, it's the yard of a church, with graves in it. This place isn't attached to one, so it's a cemetery," Tattletale explained.

"This your power again?" Victoria asked.

"No… I…I did some research on the topic a while ago, felt rather relevant to my situation," the floating orb said.

"I see…" Victoria replied.

She didn't like the Thinker, never had, on account of their drastically different ways of approaching a problem. Victoria was a Brute. Not a brute, but most definitely a Brute. Sure, her aura played a role in what she did, but strength, a forcefield and flight were her bread and butter. If she compared it to Tattletale, who relied on misdirection, hidden knowledge, and she had to admit, preparation.

Once, she'd been angry at the girl. Angrier than had been reasonable. Sure, the girl had robbed a bank, and used her power in the process. Doing that was bad. However, Tattletale had done so with a mental power, a Thinker power that worked through psychological, rather than physical, warfare. A power that did damage that Amy could not heal.

But, while that specific interplay might have hurt, it was not Tattletale's fault that she had a power that was specifically useful for psychological attacks. She'd been working with the tools she had, and those tools happened to be ones that penetrated through forcefields.

Seeing someone die fighting an Endbringer, seeing them fight it even though they were a pure Thinker, it forced you to put someone's behavior in a new perspective. Especially when that person suddenly turned up a few days later, having returned from the dead as a not-quite-ghost.

"So, you were telling a joke," Tattletale said.

"I was kind of hoping I'd think of something while telling it," Victoria admitted.

"I knew that," Tattletale said. "You know, being psychic and everything."

"You're not, psychics don't exist."

"Really Vicky? Really?"

The smugness almost radiated from the tiny blue orb. If tiny blue orbs could radiate feelings. Given magic, they probably could.

"What?"

"I mean, come on. I may not be psychic myself, but the idea that psychic's are impossible is preposterous. I mean, sure, the average brain isn't smart enough to decode other people's neural signals in real time, but someone like Alexandria or Accord? I mean, it's ridiculous to claim anything of the sort, let alone when we bring magic into this. Given what I already know, Taylor's going to learn telepathy in the future, whether you like it or not."

"Yeah, right, and you know better than…" Victoria was about to finish her sentence, when she remembered who she was talking to. "I have to admit, you probably do know better than some frumpy idiot with a degree at Brockton Bay University College."

"See? That wasn't so hard now was it?"

"You're pushing it Tattletale," Victoria said, evading a few tastefully placed trees that provided shade to the long rows of graves. The place they'd decided to inspect was rather nice, with large amounts of greenery among the graves, and tasteful decorations on top of them. It looked expensive, and old, which meant it was probably filled to the brim with evil spirits, what with them having been both rich, and dead for a hundred years or so.

"Lisa," Tattletale suddenly said.

"What?"

"Call me Lisa. I mean, my secret identity got spilled when Leviathan smashed me into tiny little chunks."

"No, I mean, wasn't it Sarah?" Victoria asked. Sarah, after all, had been the name mentioned in the obituary.

"Long story," Sarah, or Lisa, replied.

"Hate your parents?"

"Okay, short but more nuanced."

"You want to talk about it?" Victoria asked.

"Not really," Lisa replied. "Although…"

"Something wrong?" Vicky asked, floating around the graves, looking for, for lack of a better term, disturbances.

"I've been wondering… I made sure my real name would come out once I died. Some sort of final fuck you to my mother, you know? Except…"

"Except apparently, they didn't give a shit, even when you died."

"Exactly," Lisa said. "I mean, it's not like my power didn't tell me already, but…"

Lisa sighed, inasmuch as she could still sigh, and Victoria had to admit, she felt bad for the girl.

"I… I'd say I'm sorry, but I have no idea how you're feeling. I mean, I sure as hell have been angry with my parents, but that was about them caring too much. Even my father, given his condition."

"You wanna talk about it?" Lisa asked.

"Well, it's not like you don't already know anyway, right?"

"A bit… somewhat… I mean, most of what I do is bluffing and making shit up as I go along," Lisa said.

"Wait, really? Fuck… I did not expect that. I mean, you always seemed like you really had your shit together."

"Well, that's the trick isn't it? Fake it till you make it, like you do with your invincibility."

"Still bullshit how you saw through that so quickly."

"Why thank you!" Lisa replied.

"So, back to work. Ghost stuff, you see anything?" Vicky asked.

"Somewhat… The stuff laid to rest here, it's strong. Stronger than usual. Something I've been feeling myself. Whatever's been happening het last few days, it's affecting the barrier between the living and the dead or something. The ghosts, the ones driven mad by that barbed wire Taylor described? Us being busy with them is an ancillary benefit. If my assumptions here are right, someone is riling up the ghosts of Chicago in order tear at the wall. I'd have to check with Harry and some other sources, but it seems to me like the goal is weakening that barrier, in order to make all ghosts in the city stronger. I just can't figure out why, because I have no idea who could be behind this."

"Make all ghosts stronger? Or is that Ancillary too?"

"What, you think they're looking for a specific ghost?"

"I mean, it makes sense, I think. You don't hear a lot about good guy ghosts outside of Casper, so if you rile up the spirits to make all ghosts stronger, everyone involved in the people-not-horrifically-dying business is kept busy with ghosts that keep increasing in strength. But like you said, it's probably not a direct attack, so I'm guessing that whoever is behind this is trying to make a specific ghost stronger instead, and all of this chaos is just a side benefit."

"Good point Gloryhole," Lisa said.

Annoying as she was, Victoria had the idea that she was starting to figure the girl out, at least partially. Part of that, was that Lisa always wanted to get the last words in, put the finishing touches on the plan. She was the smart one. Hell, her entire power was being the smart one, the girl that knew stuff others didn't, the girl that could figure out your secrets in half a minute or less. Someone else coming up with a better idea than she had? That was annoying. Someone else taking her information and turning it into something she hadn't thought about? That was something that really annoyed the little flaptrap. Which meant that there were two things she could do right now. She could play into it, make a snide remark back at the girl, and return to their regularly scheduled bitch-off, or she could be the bigger person. Which, given the fact that Lisa was currently inhabiting a tiny drone, wasn't very difficult.

"So, what are you doing for Halloween?" she asked.

"Halloween? Fuck… of course, why didn't I think about that?"

"Think about what, your costume?" Vicky asked.

"No, I mean, it can't be coincidence someone's riling up the ghosts right around Halloween, right? I mean, it could be, but we can't afford to assume it is."

"Right, so we're looking for a super-ghost pretending it's someone else?"

"I don't think so, but… I don't really know enough about the spiritual significance of Halloween. I mean, there's so many different stories, I have absolutely no idea which one is true."

"Doesn't your power work there?"

"Not really. I mean, to really get going, I need to make sure I'm not working from faulty premises, and that's the entire problem here."

"So, got any insight on what we can do right no?" Victoria asked.

"Not really. I mean, cemeteries are nice and all, but…"

"But all the other ghosts are sleeping?"

"Wouldn't call it sleeping, but yes."

"So, find the ones that are, like, least sleepy?"

"Sure… I'll give it a try."

***

"Really? Really!?" Victoria yelled.

"Well, you have to admit, he is kind of hot," Tattletale answered.

"Eeeek!" the girl yelled.

"What the fuck!" the guy chimed in.

"Yes, that's what you were doing!" Tattletale said, her voice filled with absolute glee.

"On a fucking grave! What would your mother think?" Victoria yelled out.

"I think his mother thinks he can do better, but that's it nice that he brought his new girlfriend around to meet her," Tattletale continued.

"That's his mother's grave!?" Victoria yelled.

What the fuck kind of degenerate would take his girlfriend to the cemetery, only to do it on his mother's…

"Well, no. But the look on your face is amazing," Lisa said calmly. "I should ask Tecton for a camera."

"Where are my pants!" the guy screamed.

"Your mother is dead?" the girl asked.

"You bitch!" Victoria yelled.

"Hey, I did exactly what you asked!" Tattletale smirked with her non-existent mouth. Knowing her, she'd planned this about half an hour ago. Or, as she said before, she was improvising at a ridiculous rate. Both of them were equally annoying, yet also somehow hilarious. "I found the least restful grave in the cemetery!"


	26. Ghost-hunting: Myrddin

**Ghost-Hunting: Myrddin, Part 1**

"You know, when most people say they're getting the help of a civilian contractor, they don't mean their girlfriend," Dovetail said, floating slightly above the ground in a way that made it look like standing on the ground was too plebian.

I had to admit, it was.

"And most things associated with doves are not, in fact, associated with punching people," Susan replied.

"I would never punch anyone," Dovetail responded, acting all demure while flying around with her stupid flying power. I wasn't jealous at all, no sir. "That's what teammates are for."

"Yes, and you are associated with your teammates," Susan said.

"Ladies ladies please, there is enough Myrddin for everyone," I said.

"Yes, I've noticed, you gotta lay off the potato chips," my girlfriend responded.

"Can't say I disagree," Dovetail said.

"Anyway, let's pay attention to our mission shall we?" I said, subtly changing the topic. "Destination, Cook County Hospital."

"I bet they have a great cafeteria," Susan said.

"Has to be better than the Protectorate HQ," Dovetail responded, still floating in place.

"I know right? I mean, it's either that or this idiot here brings along stale muffins on purpose."

"Little known tidbit, they make them like that so that I have a lethal option."

"See? I'm innocent!" I said. "Anyway, as I said, Cook County Hospital."

"Why are we here again?" Susan asked.

"The ghost of Agatha Hagglethorn. She lived over a century ago, the young wife of Benson Hagglethorn. Benson was an abusive drunkard, who hit his wife whenever he'd had too much to drink, when she looked at him in the wrong way, or when he got bored. They had a baby together, and one day, when the baby was crying, Agatha tried to keep her silent, holding a hand in front of her child's mouth so as not to anger her husband. Sadly, that is not the right way to handle small children. So, long story short, she flips out, grabs an axe, chops her husband into tiny pieces, then feels so guilty she removes her own arm."

"Damn… poor girl," Susan said, a sad look on her beautiful face.

"And poor hospital. Whatever it was that Skitter found, it seems like it has been riling up ghosts all over town, including Agatha. To make matters worse, she's hanging out in the maternity ward."

"That's… bad, isn't it?"

"Someone, or something, deliberately targeting newborn children? Yes, that's about as bad as it can get," Dovetail said. "Although I'm not quite sure why they would be doing it. Killing children is not exactly the thing supervillains tend to brag about. It is one thing to be able to brag about going toe to toe with a member of the triumvirate, or fighting with one of the Endbringers. Killing children this young is very different from that."

"In other words, they're either preparing or experimenting for something, seeing how far they could go. Which means that we should be preparing as well, so that it won't catch us off guard."

"Which, once again, is why you asked your girlfriend along," she said, completely without a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

"Look, do you know anyone else with a wide scala of ghost-hunting equipment? Because I do, but he's being a mopey doofus, and his rates are way too high," I complained. I was referring, of course, to Mortimer Lindquist, an ectomancer with an actual, real talent for contacting the spirits of the departed, that had changed modus operandi and started to tell people what they wanted to hear, rather than what the dead were telling him. Compared to him, Susan was downright skilled at noticing signs of ghosts, since ghost stories were one of the few categories of the supernatural that generally weren't explained by claims of everything being caused by parahumans. The exception, of course, being the ghosts of parahumans, one of which was currently combing through a few gigabyte of social media data with the help of an algorithm provided by everyone's favorite type of Dragon. The type that build mech-suits instead of eating virgins.

We entered the hospital, and Dovetail decided that she would be the best person for the job of informing the lady at the reception of our presence. Technically speaking, I outranked her, but sometimes people ignored the well-trained and highly experienced wizard, instead deciding to trust the elegant young lady floating in front of them.

"You getting anything?" I asked.

"You mean besides the fact that you're standing right next to me? Not really," Susan replied.

"Haha, very funny. Haven't you gotten used to it yet? I mean, you've got a witch living inside of your house and everything."

"Well, T is pretty good at keeping her magic from interfering too much, so I've been thinking you're just incompetent," she teased.

"Well, there's that, and a couple of other factors. First of all, she's a good deal weaker than I am. Second, there's something weird going on with all of her bugs. I'm not quite sure what's going on there, but here presence is, well, more spread out. Rather than your fridge blowing up, The light-bulbs in the building have a slightly lower lifespan."

"So what you're saying is that we should never, ever tell insurance companies about that?"

"Exactly," I replied.

Dovetail walked, scratch that, floated, back to us. "I got us access to the nursery, but we'll have to stay out of the way of, and I quote, 'the actual heroes'."

"Oooh, isn't that usually your line?" Susan asked.

"Legend is usually the one claiming it. I tend to disagree, firemen aren't even made out of fire," I replied.

"How classy of you," Dovetail said.

Making our way through the hospital, I tried to meditate, cultivate inner harmony, that sort of thing. Generally speaking, it was easy enough for me to cast spells without mental preparation, but it helped reduce the amount of fall-out from my magic. It wouldn't do to have someone's pacemaker or a heart-lung machine stop working because of my presence. I didn't want something like that on my conscience if I could help it.

Once in the nursery, Susan set up her gear, measuring the electromagnetic spectrum all around. Dovetail took out a Dickensian novel, literally, and I started meditating. From Bob, Lisa and an out of town Thinker, we were pretty sure that Agatha Hagglethorn would return here tonight.

***

"So, why's she here?" Susan asked, whispering.

"Because the director doesn't want us to do solo operations right now," I replied.

"Yeah, but, why her? We're inside, she's a flier, doesn't make sense."

"It's complicated," I said. "She said she wanted to come, and implied it had to do with her civilian life."

"It's personal?" Susan asked, looking just a bit too interested.

"In a way," I replied. "And please, try not to publish anything like that. She has a family."

"Fine," Susan said, sighing as the device in her hands started blinking. "Is this you?"

"I don't think so," I replied. "I have myself under control right now."

"Then she's here," Susan said out loud.

Across the ward, Dovetail looked up from her book, closed it, and hid it somewhere in the folds of her dress-like costume.

I opened my spooky wizard senses, and felt energies slowly coalescing into ectoplasm. Something was definitely here, entering from the Nevernever. Almost like we'd planned it, the three of us, as well as all the babies and the single nurse still in the room, went quiet as a voice started singing. I looked at the nurse, who looked back at me, and pointed at the door. Luckily, she was creeped out enough to take my advice.

As the song continued, the light seemed to recede, and I could hear footsteps in addition to the children's song. Slowly, Agatha Hagglethorn drifted into existence, softly singing to the children in the hospital nursery.

It was a good song, and a great singing voice. Susan, who was sitting down besides me, leaned against me, placing her head on my shoulder, and I could feel my eyes become sleepy.

It was a good spell, both subtle and powerful, but I'd been prepared for this, and subtle magic generally started breaking apart when you knew it was there, and slammed your own will against like a jackhammer. I was very good at being that jackhammer.

"Agatha Hagglethorn!" I stated, loudly, and she looked at me, she was both young and attractive, and had that battered look to her that made me want to protect her. Then again, I had my girlfriend falling asleep right next to me right now, so if I was ever going to resist her spell, then this was it.

"Who are you?" the ghost of Agatha Hagglethorn said. "Are you a vagabond? Here to hurt my baby?"

Well, that was insulting. Then again, to someone unfamiliar with cape culture, my burlap robe probably did look like a classic 19th century vagabond. I looked her over, and saw the stump of her arm, where she'd cut it off in the old story. It seemed like the rumors were true.

"Are you here to hurt my baby!" she yelled again, power floating out of her, into the room. I could feel her presence on my skin.

"Agatha, he's not here to hurt your baby," Dovetail's said, her voice trembling and her silk mask removed from her face.

The ghost turned around, looking straight at the half-terrified woman's face. "Mother? Mother, my husband, you promised he would be a good man," Agatha said.

"I'm sorry Agatha, your mother is dead. She died over a hundred years ago," Dovetail said.

The ghost looked confused, and now that I had the time, I could see the comparison, the similarities between Agatha and Dovetail.

"Sister? Jessica why are you here? My husband doesn't like it when we have unannounced visitors," the spirit said.

"I'm sorry Agatha, but Jessica is dead as well," Dovetail said, slowly walking up to Agatha.

"No, you have to be Jessica," the ghost said. "Jessica you have to help me, he's going to hurt my baby."

"Agatha… I am sorry, but your baby is not here anymore," Dovetail spoke softly.

"Jessica why aren't you helping me? He hits me, he hits me and you wanted me to marry him, you said he would be a good husband."

"It's alright Agatha. I know it's confusing, but Jessica is dead now, and your mother is dead as well. Your husband is dead and your baby is not here anymore," Dovetail said.

"Who are you?" Agatha said, tears streaming over her ghostly face.

"My name is Agatha," Dovetail said. "I'm Jessica's great great great granddaughter. Your sister called her first daughter Agatha because she felt so guilty, because she could not help you," Dovetail continued. "Agatha, you have to let go. You have to find rest, you can't stick around haunting people forever."

"Agatha? You're my niece?" the ghost asked. "Agatha, you have to leave now, before he sees you. He'll hurt you."

A nearby baby started crying, and ghostly Agatha's attention turned to it. "Hush little baby, hush hush hush," she murmured, walking towards the baby, which quickly calmed down. Problem was, it became too calm.

I stood up, and walked towards my teammate. "Dovetail, I get what you're trying to do, but it's not working, and we can't let her hurt these babies."

"Just… Let me try once more," Dovetail said, and she followed Agatha, who had taken the baby from its crib, and was holding it against her spectral body. Slowly, she was draining its energy.

"Agatha," Dovetail whispered. "Agatha, put down the child, she's not yours. It's alright, you can move on now, move on and be with your child, safe from him."

Dovetail maneuvered around the ghost, and tried to take hold of the baby, but the spirit wouldn't have it.

"No! No! You can't have my baby! Mine!" Mrs. Hagglethorn yelled. "You can't take my child away! I'm not crazy! Benson can't have him, he's the only thing I have!"

As the spirit's face turned dark, I decided that this wasn't going to work. "Dovetail, back away a bit," I said, and she trusted me, although I could see anger on her face.

Then, I used my staff to draw a glyph in the air, and drew Agatha Hagglethorn, and everything she was holding, into a pocket dimension.

Except, of course, for the part where Agatha was a ghost, and all I got was a sleeping child, and a few gallons of ectoplasm, just as I'd planned.

Almost immediately, Agatha Hagglethorn turned around with a murderous look on her face. "My baby!" she yelled, rushing towards me, her stump arm raised, as if it was holding a weapon. I almost laughed at the idea of her smashing into me with a nonexistent weapon, until I remembered that this was a ghost, and I didn't necessarily need to be able to see the weapon to get hit by it.

"Riffletum!" I yelled, focusing my will on my shield bracelet, and forming a translucent barrier between me and the spirit. She lashed out, smashing down with her arm, and during the swing, her cut off hand, as well as the axe she'd used back when she'd been alive.

The axe smashed into my shield, and I could only barely hold it in place.

"My baby is dead because of you!" the spirit yelled. "I'll kill you!"

The axe smashed into my shield again.

"I'll kill you with the axe! Kill you! Kill you!" It yelled, repeatedly smashing into my shield, and I could feel every hit reverberating through my body.

"Gotta get past my shield first," I taunted, and it only drove the ghost even angrier.

"I'll take my axe. I'll take my axe and I'll whack you twenty times like I wacked Benson. You killed my angel so I'll whack you!" the ghost yelled, her sentences becoming less and less coherent.

"No, you won't," Dovetail said, sprinkling ghost dust on the angry spirit from behind.

Upon contact, Agatha's immaterial flesh exploded into scarlet light, and the spirit started screaming loudly before dashing away, and disappearing into a puddle of ectoplasm.

"Thank you," I said.

"No problem," the living Agatha replied. "Did that destroy it?"

"I don't think so. It probably crossed over instead."

"You mean, like, died?" she asked.

"No, crossed over to the Nevernever, the spirit world," I explained.

"So what now, we chase it?" she asked.

"That's uhmmm, not a good idea, attacking it in its place of power like that. It'll be far more powerful."

"I see," Dovetail said. "Then what now? We wait until she comes back?"

"Possibly," I said. "Depending on the data Susan gathered."

The two of us simultaneously looked at Susan, who had fallen asleep in the corner. Worse, now that I paid some attention, all of the babies in the nursery seemed to be rather calm. Excessively so.

And then, as if some cosmic director decided that this was the right moment for optimal dramatic tension, the singing started up again, this time without the presence of a spirit to disable.

"That's bad, isn't it?" Dovetail whispered.

"It is," I replied. "It really is."

"I don't understand, I thought that she'd left?" Dovetail asked, her gaze slowly going through the hospital nursery, looking for any possible trace of our opponent. I could hear Hagglethorn's ghost singing, so soft it was almost inaudible, but that, the supernaturally silent babies, and a Susan that was actually sleeping before 2 A.M. was the only remaining trace of our opponent.

"She did, she went back home," I replied.

"To the spirit-world?" she asked, and I had to wonder, how much of what I'd told her did she believe? She was definitely on the up-and-up regarding, ghosts, but magic as a whole?

"To the Never-never," I said.

"So, if she's gone, why is she still here?" Dovetail asked.

"Because somehow, for some reason, she's able to affect this world from the other."

"Because of her high range? Or is this one of those 'shoot a bullet through a portal' situations," she asked, referring to a rather obnoxious cross-bow wielding small-time villain that had roamed the streets a year or two ago. Last I'd heard, he'd moved to a smaller city to try his luck.

"The second," I answered. "Given her presence here, her own private domain will be right on the other side."

"So, how do we get there?" Dovetail asked.

I thought about it. It wouldn't be that difficult for me to tear open a portal to Hagglethorn's domain. But then we'd have to fight her in her own domain. Plus, I'd quite possibly have to deal with my fairy godmother, which wasn't as fun as Disney made you think it was.

I wondered… what, exactly, was in charge of Disney? Some sort of pro-fairy lobbying group?

"We call in for reinforcements, then I open a portal," I replied.

"Myrddin… We can't wait," she replied. I looked around, the babies quiet, Susan sleeping in the corner, and the eerie singing still going around. "I'll call it in, but we can't afford to wait."

"Fine…" I said, as Dovetail spoke into her earpiece, asking for reinforcements.

"So, how do we go there?" she asked.

I held out my staff, and focused my will.

"Aparturum" I spoke, opening a portal to a different dimension, without using my parahuman abilities to do so. Before me, torn into the world, was a hole that led to an older version of Chicago. Everything was made out of wood. The houses themselves were old, reminiscent of my own apartment building, but lacking the concrete of my basement, or even any stone at all. The sidewalks, instead of being made out of stone tiles or concrete slabs, looked like the deck of a veranda. The roads themselves, strangely empty except for a few abandoned carriages, were cut out of a solid piece, far too large for any real-world tree to have been used. Street-lamps shone with clear pinpricks of light, and while some of them were lit by burning gas, others looked like early light-bulbs. The posts themselves however, looked like tree-trunks stripped of bark. It gave the area an eerie look, and it reminded me of nothing as much like a colouring book. Like someone had taken a picture of 19th century Chicago, and used only a single material to build it. It was fitting, for an axe-wielding ghost.

"Looks… flammable," Dovetail said with trepidation.

"Don't look at me like that," I replied, stepping through the portal.

Chicago in the Never-Never, or at least, this version of it, looked, quite frankly, amazing. Every house looked like a manor, and while the lights of the streetlamps didn't penetrate far, the low-level lighting made for a rather beautiful atmosphere, like it was an early evening, just before people went to bed.

Plus, there was the ghostly howling. Agatha Hagglethorn was angry, and in the distance, I could see the houses moving closer together. In her territory, the very terrain would be assisting Agatha in a fight.

"Wow," Dovetail said. "Just… Wow."

"Welcome to the other side," I said, as she floated upwards.

"Don't go too far away, spacetime gets fucky around here."

"Don't worry, I won't," she replied, inspecting the area, and leaving a trail of forcefields. It looked like she had some difficulties for a few seconds, but it quickly settled into a stream of slightly smaller bubbles than normal, compensating for that by increasing the number of bubbles. Her shard was probably connecting through the open portal right now, and while it would be interesting to see what would happen if I closed it, this wasn't the time to satisfy my curiosity.

"I think I see her from here," Dovetail said from above.

"What direction?" I asked.

"That way," she pointed. "Or at least, it's the center of the disturbance."

"Very well," I replied, running after her.

As we moved further into Hagglethorn's domain, the streets narrowed, and slowly, a roof appeared out of nowhere, slowly turning our large street into a narrow wooden corridor, lit by torches.

"Can't help but think that we're flying into a trap," Dovetail said.

"Probably," I replied. "But it's not like we have much of a choice."

"Wait… can you hear that?" Dovetail said.

I stood still, and Listened beyond the lullaby, and heard the baying of hounds.

"Crap, we've got hellhounds incoming," I said.

"Didn't she die during the Leviathan attack?" Dovetail asked.

"Different hellhounds, actual hellhounds."

We walked, or rather, I walked and she floated, forwards, trying not to think about the incoming army of hellhounds.

Eventually, the ever tightening passage ended at a set of fancy double doors, swung wide open. On the other side of the doors was a large room reminiscent of something out of a period piece, but once again, things were slightly wrong. There was a mahogany dining table, with high-backed chairs made out of the same wood, but those same grains were visible on the cutlery as well. There was an old wooden rocking crib, but the blankets inside of it were made out of carved wood that was only imitating cloth. Agatha Hagglethorn's ghost, her stump arm bloody, stood by the crib, hiding her emotions behind her singing, but there was no baby in her crib. Leaning against one of its legs was the axe, and I could see anger behind the tears streaming over her face.

She looked up, noticing our intrusion into her domain, and the sadness in her expression disappeared almost immediately, giving way for a crazed anger.

"WHERE IS MY BABY!" the ghost screamed out, jumping for Dovetail at incredible speed, her axe swinging in a large arc. At the last moment, Dovetail dodged the hit with a barrel roll, leaving a trail of forcefields that stuck to the axe. A normal weapon would've been reduced to a nerf bat, but I was pretty sure we would have no such luck with her spectral axe.

I held up my blasting rod, and shouted "Fuego", throwing a fireball towards the spirit, hoping that its purifying force would wipe away the dead woman's ghost.

There was a positive side and a negative side to the attack.

On the one hand, it hit, and the ghost's dress started burning, and her spectral flesh with it. On the other hand, she'd turned her attention to me, and I couldn't just fly out of the way. Her face filled with fear and anger, she charged me, using her single remaining hand to lift her axe above her head, ready for a swing.

"Defendarius!" I said, summoning a shield in front of me, which the ghost's axe smashed into.

The energies collided, and I was thrown back violently, as was the ghost. Right now, right here, she was much more powerful than back at the hospital.

"My baby!" Agatha yelled as she stood back up again, ignoring her burning flesh and her half-torn dress. I positioned myself so that the elaborately made up dining table, with a fruit-basket with wooden fruit, was between us, but she jumped it in a single go. This time, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to conjure up another shield.

Instead, I readied my other power, the one that relied not on years of training and natural talent, but on interdimensional space parasites. It wouldn't be as reliable here in the Never-never, but I didn't need to do anything subtle right now. I just needed a boom.

Using my staff, I drew a circle in the air in front of me, and opened a hole into a dimension that was filled with, in effect, fire. In theory, there was a highly flammable semi-liquid gas on the other side, at more than one atmosphere. In practice, it burned things.

Almost immediately, screams for her child were replaced with screams of pain, and once I closed off the stream, I saw Agatha Hagglethorn's ghost floating there, the axe burned to ashes, and her flesh the color of coal, smouldering every here and there. Wrapped around her, starting at the throat, was what looked like barbed wire, similar to what Taylor had described to me. Something had tortured this poor thing into doing what she'd done.

"Myrddin, we need to get out of here," Dovetail said, and as I looked around, I noticed why. The wooden nursery was on fire, and although physics didn't really work here, and we therefore weren't being smothered by the smoke, it would still get awfully hot here.

"Give me a second," I replied, walking towards Agatha's ghost, which was just floating there, silently screaming. "I'm sorry," I said, almost silently. It wasn't a real person, just an echo of one, but doing this to a woman? It didn't feel good. Using my staff, I opened another dimension. A tiny hole this time, and an explosive blast of air was released, and the ghost was blown into ashes, the sound of her song receding until only the crackling of the fire remained. It was silent, too silent, the baying of the hellhounds was gone.

I looked at our exit, and spotted an image out of my nightmares there. A beautiful face framed by curly, copper hair, and amber eyes in the shape of a cat's eyes. Perfect lips, a perfect nose, and ears that were probably pointed enough to draw blood. She wasn't alone, as she'd brought a trio of hellhounds, giant mastiffs built out of ashen shadows, which were brushing against her legs, silently glaring at me while baring their teeth..

"Harry my child, how are you?" she asked.

"Lea…" I replied.

"Oh, did you bring your girlfriend? She's cute," Lea said, looking at Dovetail.

"Myrddin, who exactly is this?" Dovetail asked.

"My fairy godmother," I replied. "She wants to turn me into one of those hellhounds."

"Master then. Anything else I need to know?" she replied, and I saw that she'd prepared her foam-launcher, floating out of range of the Hellhounds.

"Hush girl," Lea said, magic flowing into her words, and Dovetail went silent. Then, she took some time to look around the room, the fire had stopped spreading, but all of the wood was smoldering, and a thick layer of ash on the floor was matched by a ceiling of smoke.

"Reminds me of the good old times," Lea said, slowly walking closer to me, her body moving in all the right ways, her dress, a green strapless number, hugged tight to her unnaturally beautiful flesh. Compared to the charred remains of Agatha's ghost, it looked a lot better. As she spoke, I could see her canines, just slightly too sharp. "Harry, don't you think all of this violence is far too dangerous for thee? Running around town fighting spirits, werewolves and Endbringers? You'd be far safer at my side. After all, I just want to keep thee safe."

The worst part was, she was actually speaking the truth. Didn't even have a choice in the matter. As one of the Sidhe, she couldn't lie. Literally couldn't.

"I have to say, I'm not interested," I replied.

"Nonsense boy, come here," she replied, and I could feel my body move towards her, just as she came towards me. She grabbed me by the shoulders, and started massaging me. I had to admit, it felt good.

"See? So much stress with that job of yours, thou barely gets an hour of rest."

I wanted to protest, to pull myself away, but it was just so difficult to resist her workings.

It would be so much easier to give in, to go with her and leave my responsibilities behind. I wouldn't have to figure out how to teach magic to a teenager, I wouldn't have to deal with one apocalyptic event after another, I wouldn't even have to think about the fact that my boss and my teacher were dating, and that she was calling him Ebbyzebby. Just the thought of the two of them, snuggling and kissing was enough to send me into shock.

"No!" I shouted, pushing myself away from Lea, and readying my blasting rod.

"Hush now, my son. There is no need for violence," Leanansidhe said, all of her magic directed at me. I wanted to cast something, to blow a hole into that stupid perfect face of hers, but I couldn't bring up the willpower to go against her.

Which is why I was pleasantly surprised by an incredibly loud explosion, it's sound bouncing around the room. Almost instantly, the Leanansidhe started screaming, and I saw blood soak into her dress around her midriff. Released from Lea's spell, I looked at Dovetail, who was wielding a sawn-off shotgun, smoke coming out of the barrel.

"What are you standing around for, let's run!" she said as she was flying for the double doors of our entrance. One of the demonic dogs jumped for her, but she shot it out of the air with another loud bang, and it fell to the floor, whimpering and bleeding. Taking inspiration from her actions, I followed her, and the other two hellhounds, now wary of Dovetail's shotgun, started chasing me instead.

"Forzare!" I yelled, kinetic energy blowing the two hellhounds back, while Dovetail flew above me, keeping pace with my frantic run through the hallway. I was really starting to appreciate my extended morning runs with Taylor.

"Your foam!" I yelled out, looking over my shoulder to see the two hellhounds still following us, dodging past Dovetail's forcefield trail.

"Throwing it!" she yelled out, throwing the tank into the air behind us.

"Fulminos!" I yelled, a bolt of lightning slamming into the tank, explosively decompressing it, and blocking the hallway behind us.

"Where did you get that shotgun from?" I asked, jogging through the long hallway while Dovetail was floating besides me, graceful as always.

"Utility compartment," she replied, a sly smile on her face.

"Why would it be in your utility compartment?" I asked

"Because I shot her with a breaching charge?" she replied. "I'm pretty sure opening doors counts as utility."

"A breaching charge?"

"I mean, you said she was a fairy, and that one contained iron, so I thought, why not try it?"

"You got any surprises up your sleeve?" I asked. First the familial relationship with the ghost, then a shotgun, apparently there was a lot I didn't know about Dovetail.

She held a hand to her face, and I could see her look into the sleeve of her poofy dress.

"Let's see… Dragon's breath, Scimitar ammo, and some expanding slugs I'm not supposed to use."

"Does Image know about this?"

"Depends… are you going to tell them?" she asked.

"Probably not," I replied, as the hallway slowly morphed back into the streets of wood Chicago. "Why the fuck do you carry a Winchester around anyway?"

"Winchester!" she said angrily. "I'll have you know that this is a shortened MTs-255, 12 gauge with 5 rounds in the magazine, Russian make."

"Russian?" I asked.

"They know their shotguns, and they make sturdier stuff, which is pretty useful when you are around," she replied.

"Fair point. Why do you have it?" I asked.

"Because I'm a dainty young lady, and the streets of Chicago are dangerous?" she asked.

"Seriously?"

"What, you're asking me to go up against the likes of the Irishman with nothing but some forcefields and a foam sprayer?" she asked, half-joking.

The Irishman, so-called for his aggressively red hair, was some sort of Brute that had recently started working for Gentleman Marcone. Personally, I thought he looked awfully similar to Marcone's bodyguard and main spook, Cujo, but if that man had had powers, he would've used them from the beginning, and it wasn't very likely that he'd triggered in Marcone's employ, say what you want about the man, but he took care of his people. Maybe it was an even more evil twin brother?

"Say, Harry, wasn't it?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Were those eyes around before?" she asked, and as I looked around, I saw eyes appearing. Mostly as glowing orbs in the shadows, but sometimes, out of the corner of my eyes, wooden planks turned into eyelids, which opened up only to show bloodshot eyeballs, and turn back into wooden planks when I looked directly at them.

"Fuck," I said.

"What's happening? Is this your godmother?"

"I don't think so… No, I think something is taking over…"

"Taking over?" she asked.

"This place, it was Hagglethorn's domain, the place is the way it is because of her presence."

"So, what you're saying is, something else is taking over."

"Exactly," I replied. "And it's still quite a distance to the portal."

"Will it be alright?" she asked.

"Probably, I poured a lot of power into it, so it should hold for a while."

"Good, because I think it's getting worse," Dovetail said.

Before us, the wooden streets of Chicago were slowly morphing into, well, the closest analogue I could think of was the big tumorous growth of flesh that Genoscythe had turned into, which didn't make sense, because Genoscythe was dead…

"It's Genoscythe," I said.

"What do you mean? Genoscythe is…"

"Yeah, exactly."

"So what you're saying is, that thing is a ghost now, and it's coming for us?" she asked.

"Possibly," I said, standing still. We were still about a hundred meters from my entrance. For the best of the best, that meant ten seconds of running. For me, it'd take about twelve, except for the part where the wood had been replaced by flesh, half of it skin, the other just a wet mush, with eyes in between it. Here and there, I still saw eyeballs, and the street-lamps had turned into long, fleshy scythes.

"This is bad," I said, taunting fate, as I heard the baying of hellhounds resume behind us. They were still a ways of, but Lea had recovered from Dovetail's hit, and was coming after us.

"Great," Dovetail said sarcastically, taunting fate even further, and a dark phantom appeared in front of us, blocking our path to the exit.

A spectral grin appeared roughly in the vicinity of the phantom's mouth, and it spoke in guttural, twisted tones.

"I was planning to go for the blonde first, but if you're serving yourself up on a platter like this…"

Around it, more scythes speared, -or was it scythed?- out of the ground, blackened flesh waving around.

"This is a rather negative turn of events, isn't it?" Dovetail spoke.

"Yeah… we're basically mega-fucked."

"Anything that works well on ghosts?" she asked, going through a small bandolier of specialty shot-gun slugs. From what I could see, she'd brought quite an array, hidden between the folds of her dress.

"Holy ground, sunlight, fire, that sort of thing."

"Good," she said, and I heard her loading up new shells in her tiny, but deadly, five-shooter.

"And you even brought me a tasty little snack," the nightmarish spirit continued. "Good, very good."

While he was speaking out, I heard something behind me, and as I whirled around, I noticed a scythe, sprouting from what had once been a window, but was now a bulbous mass of puss, trying to impale me.

"fuego!" I yelled, launching a pillar of fire into an even more twisted version of 19th century Chicago. As I admired the burning flesh, I heard Dovetail fire twice before the mouths spread throughout the flesh-scape started screaming, blocking out most of the other sounds.

The spirit, in the meantime, had blocked Dovetail's shots by sacrificing two of his scythes, and was slowly walking forwards, holding something small in his hands. A chain of some sort?

"It's not working," Dovetail shouted, as she loosened more slugs in the spirit's direction. She was alternating between different types of slugs, but the fiery ammunition she used was blocked by the flesh-scythes, while anything that penetrated through them did minimal damage to the incoming spirit's body.

"Agatha… spirits can only act when something directly relates to their deaths. Genoscythe is here for me. In the meantime, you need to escape," I said, hoping that I correctly remembered my ghost-lore. By now, our opponent was close enough that she would be able to go around it, and reach the portal that way.

"Harry, please don't pretend you can make it out of here on your own for my sake," Dovetail replied.

"It's not a done thing," I said. "My godmother can't lie, she does want to protect me. With some luck, I'll be able to play them out against each other."

"Fine… but you better not die on me, I don't want to deal with an angry girlfriend," she replied, flying off, escaping by going around the approaching shadow.

"Didn't think she was your type Myrddin," the shadowy figure said.

"And I didn't think you were one for the small talk, given the size of your corpse," I replied.

At that, the spirit lifted a spectral eyebrow.

"Well, it matters not, prepare to die!" he shouted, running towards me.

I half-turned, and held my blasting rod in front of me with one hand, drawing a sigil with my staff in the other. With some luck, Genoscythe was located everywhere around us, and not just in the phantom body in front of me, and I could hurt him, or at least reduce his power, by destroying the moving domain. Then, at the exact moment I completed the sigil required for my parahuman ability, I gathered my will, and released just about everything I had left in me. "fuego!"

From both of my wooden implements, streams of fire spilled forth, swiftly transforming the entire section of the Never-never into a blazing inferno. When I was done, everything smelled like cooked long pig, and the screaming had turned into a soft moan, just barely audible. The dark phantom, however, was only slightly singed, standing behind a blackened barrier of scythes.

"Bravo, but it's my turn now," it said, before soaring forwards at an incredible pace, mouth opened.

"Defendarium!" I said, trying to create a shield, but the day's fighting had tired me out, and the spirit broke right through it, latching onto my shoulder, and chomping into it with teeth that were way too sharp to be fair.

It started eating, and I started screaming. I wasn't sure how long I was there, but every bite hurt more, and I could feel it tearing into my very essence.

Eventually, I felt something heavy drop on top of me, and the nightmarish figure was torn away from me. Trying to get my bearings, I was barely cognizant of an unfolding battle between my assailant, and the remaining two hellhounds.

"Don't you see, my dear boy? Without my help, thee would have died. Please, let me protect you," Leanansidhe said, and I could just barely see her walking towards me through the pain.

"Go fuck yourself," I replied, as I noticed that her voice was missing its usual charming qualities. It looked like she was still hurting from Dovetail's hit.

"Really Harry, you should do something about that potty mouth of yours. Now, I think it's time that you lived up to your end of our deal," she said, right as the ground, or rather, flesh, started shaking.

I turned towards the portal, only to see that our reinforcements had arrived while Lea's hounds had been dealing with Genoscythe's ghost-form. Tecton, Cuff and Snaptrap were standing on this side of my portal, and Techy had just torn a fissure into the charred flesh of Genoscythe's dead power.

Lea turned and hissed, actually hissed, while Cuff darted forwards, and Snaptrap launched a grenade towards us with one of his singularities.

A wave from her arm changed the projectile's trajectory, launching it into what had once been a nearby building before it exploded into a cloud of foam, but Cuff had already launched a follow-up attack. A smooth disk of metal, Iron, sailed through the air, and while Lea tried to give a repeat performance, her telekinetic trick was ineffective, and when she noticed it, it was already too late for her to fully dodge. The disc tore through the side of her neck, spraying blood and making her scream out in pain. Knowing my luck, it wouldn't be fatal, but the wound, in addition to the fact that I had reinforcements, was enough to chase her off, holding a hand to her neck while trying desperately to remain graceful. I wasn't sure where she was going, but she seemed to be heading away from the place where her hounds had chased the nigthmarish spirit.

I was lucky, that it was Cuff and Tecton that were here. Tecton's power armor meant he was clad in a couple hundred pounds of iron, and Cuff was a metallokinetic that specialized in manipulating the metal, in this case iron, around her. The two of them were basically perfect counters to fae like Lea.

"You alright?" Cuff asked as she came closer. "Damn, you look like hell."

"You should see the other guy," I replied, as she used her effectively enhanced strength, lifting her body armor to make it lift me, to let me lean on her shoulder.

"Aren't we standing on him?" she asked.

"Maybe, I'm not sure," I replied as she half-carried me back to the real world, too tired and hurting to make a silly remark.

A few hours later, Susan parked the Beetle in front of my house, and helped me out. It was late, and we were the only ones around, but we'd survived the night, which was more than you could say about the ghost of Agatha Hagglethorn.

"We've got the place to ourselves?" she asked.

"Yeah, Taylor's helping a local hospital with a bug infestation tomorrow, so I'm pretty sure she won't come in to make potions halfway through again."

"Good, because we've got to get you into a bed," she replied, smiling. I returned it, before wincing at the pain in my shoulder.

Almost instinctually, I balanced myself as we reached the door of the house, ready for a fifteen pound furball to try its best to bowl us over. However, for some reason, the two of us were still standing.

"Wait… where's Mister?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I let him out this morning, he'll usually storm into me, wanting to go inside if I get back this late."

"Harry, it's a cat, cats are weird."

"But what if he's hurt? What if a dog attacked him?"

"You mean what if he attacked a dog? Don't worry about it Harry," she said, but I wasn't reassured.

A few seconds later, I saw the source of my discomfort appear. A woman, immaculately groomed, wearing tennis whites, and smiling. A vampire, Red.

"Calm down Wizard Dresden, I'm just here to deliver an invitation, according to the procedures outlined in the Unseelie Accords," she said. "Although, if you want to start a fight, I'd be willing to end it."

She smiled, flecks of dried blood still visible on her pristinely white teeth. Oh god how much did I hate vampires.


	27. A Christmas Omake

**A Very Fiery Christmas - A of Wasps and Wizards Omake**

The fire crackled in the hearth, and Mister purred on my lap, licking my hand clean.

Pizza, I had to admit, wasn't the best Christmas food, but it was easy, I was lazy, and I couldn't convince my apprentice to cook without the proper tools.

Outside, a snowstorm raged, blocking up my little window. The only one that actually cared was Mister, and even he was okay with staying inside in this weather. In the corner of the room, two spirits were resting. In front of Bob's skull stood a stack of printed paper, as Lisa had told him about the wonders of internet fanfiction, and the amount of smut that could be found in there. Lisa herself was resting in her charging station, the only electronic device in the house.

"So, Santa Claus?" Taylor asked, looking up from her book. She was bunched up on a ridiculously large chair she'd acquired a while ago, legs under her and a thick blanket covering almost everything. She was wearing her new lenses, tiny glowing runes blinking in and out of existence around her irises. Lisa's idea, they'd acquired the raw materials from a Tinker somewhere through Tecton, and had gone to town casting magic on a bunch of fancy meta-materials.

"Real," I said, looking at the stockings hanging above the fireplace. A big woolen red and white one for me, one made out of spider-silk for Taylor, a Quidditch themed one for Lisa, (she was remarketing as a snitch, which was remarkably appropriate) and one covered with stitched pictures of naked ladies for Bob. Finally, there was a tiny stocking with cat ears embroidered on them, for Mister.

"So who's filling up the stockings?" she asked, seeing where I was looking, probably because of hair lice or something like that.

"Santa helps those who help themselves," I replied.

"Which doesn't really answer my question."

"Well, think about it, why do we leave milk, cookies and a carrot out?" I asked her, deciding to use the Socratic method to disguise the fact that I had no idea why Santa never brought me presents as a child.

"Hmmm," she replied, thinking about the conundrum.

Done licking my fingers, Mister resettled, and I took the opportunity to grab my book. 'A Christmas Carol', by Charles Dickens, a beautiful story about how the rich needed to be scared into basic human decency by supernatural beings.

While reading, I mentally changed the characters in the story. Scrooge became Johnny Marcone, and the ghosts of Christmas were different gangsters he'd wronged over the years. Eventually, after a visit from the ghost of christmas future, Marcone understood the true meaning of Christmas, and started sharing his drug money with his men.

"It's an invitation!" Taylor said. "The cookies, the milk, It's an invitation for Santa to come visit. Without those, he wouldn't be able to cross our threshold."

"Close, but no cigar. While mostly correct, Fae with good intentions that respect the laws of hospitality are able to cross thresholds without problem. I think."

"Oh," Taylor said, sinking back into her chair "Then I think I'm out of ideas."

"To be fair, I don't know either," I admitted. "I was totally going to eat those cookies."

"Well, that explains why Santa never visits these days," Taylor said. "All the grown men keep stealing his cookies."

I was about to protest, when someone knocked on the door thrice in quick succession. Slowly standing up, I looked at Taylor.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"One of the girls from upstairs, The Kaufmanns I think? Something German. I'll check their house."

Standing up, brushing off an insulted Mister, I walked to the door and opened it, spotting the little girl, crying in front of the door.

"Mista Harry?" the girl asked.

"What's wrong Susy?" I replied, crouching down to seem less imposing.

"There's something upstairs, it's hitting mommy."

I looked back, and saw that Skitter had already donned her cape. Somehow, Ava had managed to get her hands on it and dyed it red, finishing the theme with a lining of fake white fur. Taylor wasn't happy with it, but the colouring got everyone into a festive spirit when she was walking around, which was good for her popularity with the city.

"Let's go," I said to her, grabbing my blasting rod and running up the stairs, leaving the little girl standing behind me.

The Kaufmanns lived on the third floor, their door still open, I heard Mister Kaufmann yelling. "Help!"

Invite enough. I crossed the threshold, coming upon a dangerous scene.

Mrs. Kauffrau was lying on the floor, bound with red and white tape, a christmas ball placed like a gag in her mouth. More gruesome however, was Mister Kaufmann, who was being assaulted by a fur-clad man with a whip, shouting "Naughty, naughty, naughty," every time he hit.

The monster, in the meantime, was being attacked by a handful of bugs, the snowstorm having greatly limited Taylors arachnid army.

I brought up my empty right hand, regretting the fact that I brought my blasting rod instead of my staff. Fire probably wasn't a good idea here.

"Forzare!" I shouted, blasting the monster-man, whatever it was.

It launched through the air, crashing into the christmas tree, and Taylor assisted me, double-teaming him with a "Sericum Funem," yelled as she appeared behind him. She ran slightly slower than he did. Because although she was tall for a girl, he was event aller.

As she casted, silk from her spiders merged with the tinsel in the tree, and what was probably ectoplasm, binding the creature to the pine tree.

"No fair, no fair!" it yelled out, still trying to whip at the man.

"You come in here and attack these people, and we're not being fair?" Taylor said, already having an iron knife at the ready. My reliably stabby apprentice, always prepared for a fight.

"They invited me! Told me to do my job!" it yelled. "It's Belsnickel's job to punish the wicked!"

"Belsnickel?" I asked.

"Don't listen to it, it's evil! It lies!" Mister Kaufmann said, hiding from it behind his couch, still sore from getting whipped.

"I am of faerie, wizard," the Belsnickel said. "I cannot tell a lie, you know this."

I looked at the guy, wearing old, rotten furs, his whip made out of ragged leather. He sure looked like a supernatural nastie, although he could still just be a really drunk hobo.

"What do you think, T?" I asked, looking at my apprentice.

"Well, it's most definitely not Santa, but it looked magical to my bugs, bleeds ectoplasm," she replied.

"In other words, the only way it could be inside, was if it was invited in," I said, looking at the Kaufmanns. Taylor had used an overly large spider to free Kauffrau from her gag, which had only made her more afraid.

"In other words, it's probably their lies," Taylor said. "But I think there's someone else we can ask."

I looked behind me, seeing little Susy following behind us, a scared look in her eyes.

"Susy, what did your parents do?" Taylor asked her, trying to hide her bugs where she wouldn't be scared off.

"Mommy… Mommy and Daddy said that… that if I was naught, Belsnickel would come and whip me," she said.

"Thus, inviting him here," I said, already not liking what was going on here. Belsnickel was trying to break free, attempting to get back to whipping the parents, and while I really disliked most of the nasties the never-never contained, I was pretty sure guys like Belsnickel actually were limited to attacking the naughty during Christmas.

Of course, what exactly naughty meant in that context was probably horribly outdated, including things such as miscegenation, but the basic idea was there.

"You have something to confess?" I asked, looking at the two adults in the room.

"Don't tell him anything Gerald," the woman snapped at her husband. "We've done nothing wrong!"

The man just cried, hiding in his corner behind the bank. Belsnickel however, got even angrier.

"Liar! Liar!" it yelled, breaking itself free of the tree, and lunging at the woman, having forgotten its whip.

"Forzare!" I spoke, blasting the creature away. It wasn't actually all that strong, magically speaking, and it flew straight into the wall behind him, crashing through it.I ran forwards after it, Taylor following by my side.

For just a second, I thought I'd blown Belsnickel out of the building, as he was covered in thin white powder.

Then, I noticed that that powder wasn't exactly snow, and that most of it was wrapped and packaged. A white christmas indeed.

"T, how the fuck did you not notice this?" I asked.

"You told me to respect people's privacy," she said. "And the walls of this room are actually pretty new, well-insulated too."

"Well, time to hit two birds with one stone," I said, raising up my blasting wand and gathering energy as Belsnickel was coughing from all the cocaine, still covered with tinsel and other festive decorations from Taylor's spell.

"You know what," I said, looking at my apprentice. "You do the honours. Early christmas present."

I handed her my blasting rod, and saw her start gathering focus, pointing the rod at the Belsnickel. "Fuego!" she spoke, and a small fireball launched from the rod, hitting the Belsnickel, and catching the tinsel on fire. Problem solved.

The building was on fire, and it wasn't my fault.

It had been my apprentice's fault, and I was very, very proud of her.

"You said I should blast him!" she said, trying to deflect blame.

"And I'm proud of you kiddo," I replied, putting a hand on her bony shoulder. "Can't make a wizard without burning a few buildings."

"What'll happen to the Kaufmann's?" Taylor asked.

"They've probably already found the remains of the drugs," I said, looking at the busy firefighters. I'd exhausted myself slowing down the fire, allowing everyone to get out, and making sure the building didn't just go up into ashes. "So I'm guessing prison."

"And the girl?" she asked, looking at little Susy, sipping hot chocolate milk while covered with an emergency blanket, the cops talking to her parents in the background. "Seems horrible to spend Christmas with CPS."

I looked at our apartment building. The fire had mostly died down, and we'd probably be allowed back in quite soon. My hand disappeared in my pocket, and returned with a little ID-card from my boss.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to give her a Christmas Miracle then," I declared, seeing a small smile appear on Taylor's face.


	28. Ghost-Hunting: Amy

**Ghost-Hunting: Amy**

"Again, thank you for coming, it's been a great help," the nurse smiled at her. She was a large woman, happy, even though her body would probably give in before she reached the age of sixty. In a way, the nurse reminded her of director Piggot. As angry as Carol and aunt Sarah could be at the woman, she'd never asked them for help with her personal condition, and Amy could respect that.

"No problem really," Amy lied. It was true that she liked coming here to help. It was also true that she couldn't live with herself if she didn't.

Something wet, large and heavy touched her shoulder, and Amy absentmindedly petted it. In response, Judas's overly large tongue fell out of his mouth, slobbering drool all over her robes.

"Isn't that a bit-"

"-unhygienic?" Amy interrupted. It was a legitimate worry, born out of nothing but goodwill towards her patients, but the comment still needled her. Did this woman really think she'd do anything to endanger her patients? Did a random nurse really think that she knew more about sickness and health than her? "Not really, he's completely immune to traditional disease, and his saliva is perfectly clean of everything except for a custom wound-healing agent. His fur is hypo-allergenic, and he's so well-trained that he'd never hurt anyone without my express command," she continued. The last part… wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't false either. As far as she'd experienced, Judas was pretty good at telling the difference between allies, foes and civilians, although it was difficult to tell how exactly Hellhound had trained him. Over the last few months, he'd gotten better and better at listening to her, but if it came to a conflict between her and Skitter, she wasn't quite sure who would win out in Judas's mind. Others, while they could theoretically bribe him with food, were mostly seen as a source of belly rubs, which was one of the reasons that Judas enjoyed these outings to the hospital so much. If children loved anything more than puppies, it was two-meter tall monster dogs made out of tail wagging and hugs.

Just for a moment, she let her power explore Judas's body, questing through his biological make-up. Publically, her taking care of Judas was a tribute towards one of Brockton Bay's villainous defenders, and Judas being this large was justified because he was well-trained and used to being enhanced, and because without New Wave around, she needed a bodyguard.

Her internal senses went through the organs. Three layers of plated bone, two separate storage sacks for specialized saliva, -holy water and a custom paralytic/anesthetic,- a set of twisting sinews, inspired by an old Roman design, ammunition provided by the dog's regenerative capabilities. A few enhancements in his hairs that allowed him to identify minute changes airflow, fire-proof skin, a set of gills hidden in the neck and a half-dozen other minor enhancements. Right now, she was spending her free evenings trying to find a way to give him freely activate-able incendiary sweat, since fire seemed to be rather effective against most villains, didn't matter if they were magical or parahuman in nature.

"Any unanticipated cases?" she asked the nurse.

"One, a girl suffering from necrotizing fasciitis, stable but scarring. Besides that, the usual. Seventeen terminal oncology patients, twelve of them from a failed trial of a new drug that looked promising. Two amputees from the police force, they got hurt trying to help out a man who was having some sort of psychotic break, and we managed to find three more of Watch's victims, two of them heavily impaired, the other left quadriplegic," she rattled off, as if from a list.

"We'll do the girl first, so I can leave Judas in the ward until we get to the amputees, anything else?"

"One thing. We seem to have a small infestation beginning in the kitchen, so the director wanted me to ask you if you happened to have contact information for that bug girl," the woman said.

"Can't you just hire exterminators?" Amy asked. Part of her deal with the hospital was an agreement about stuff like this. If the hospital could, potentially, do something about it themselves, they would, without asking Amy to do it for them.

"We could, but according to the director, fumigating would mean the kitchen would be closed for a few days, and we have a few patients with very specialized diets, which could be a problem when ordering take-out," she joked.

"I'll give her a call, but she's probably busy," Amy replied, taking her phone out of a hidden pocket on the inside of her robe, and dialling Taylor's home address. Because of her magic, she couldn't have a cellphone, but landlines were old enough to keep working, and miraculously enough, Myrrdin's girlfriend's apartment actually had one.

After three tones someone picked up the phone. "Rodriguez household, how can I help you?" a female voice said.

"Hi Skit," she replied. "You got a few hours tonight?"

"I was going to work on some potions…" the girl replied. Taylor, Amy thought, was just as much of a shut-in as she was, except for going out to heal people at the hospital, Taylor sat in a café with a book while playing superhero with the background processes of her mind.

"There's a minor infestation in the kitchen at the hospital here, do you mind dropping by for a bit? There's some quick cash in it for you. Legal cash even" Amy said snidely.

"Fine. I'll drop by," Skitter replied. "Same hospital as usual?"

"Yes," Amy replied, "Guess I'll see you in a bit?"

"Sure," Taylor answered, and Amy turned off her phone.

"She'll be here in a bit," she told the nurse escorting her around, who nodded. It was time to get to work.

***

Exhausted, Amy returned to the children's ward, where Judas was letting someone ride on him, and Skitter had been joined by some of the Wards.

"Met them on the way here, made an impromptu thing out of it," the young witch said, while Wanton, Siren and Kilroy were entertaining the children in the ward. Or rather, Siren was entertaining them, Wanton was being overly proud that he'd finally managed to get himself a girlfriend, and Kilroy was looking out of the window, trying not to show his jealousy.

She had to admit, she could understand that feeling. Siren was… gorgeous felt like an understatement, and while the girl wasn't really her type, she was most definitely easy on the eyes.

"Did you find the bugs yet?" Amy asked.

"Yeah, hard to miss, they're dealt with. How's the healing going?"

"Almost done," Amy replied, looking around the room, seeing the two cops entering the door, one of them using one arm to push his leg-less friend.

"Sorry kids, but I think the boys in blue have to borrow Judas for a bit," Kilroy said, ushering the little tykes away from the large dog. It was difficult to say which of them was more disappointed, the kids because they lost their toy, or Judas because he lost a major source of attention.

"Judas, here," Amy called out, walking towards the two amputees.

"Which of you wants to go first?" she asked.

"Micky here," the armless man said.

"Nahh, Rudolph's the real hero," Micky replied. "He can go first."

"Nonsense, I'm so heroic I can let you go first," Rudolph retorted, and from the look of it, they'd been at it for a while.

"Judas, what do you think?" Amy asked, and Judas jumped up, putting a heavy paw on the lap of the man in the wheelchair. "Guess it'll have to be you, Micky," Amy said, a hint of a smile on her face.

"Do you want me to do anything, or…"

"Just, don't get freaked out? It'll tingle and feel weird, and if you move too much that'll make it hard for me."

"Don't move, just like the dentist's, got it," he replied, and Amy came closer, laying one hand on him while placing the other on Judas's flank. Then, she started molding flesh.

She didn't quite know what would happen once people noticed what she was really doing. Would they be angry? Would they tell her that yes, she was indeed evil?

It didn't matter though because she wasn't going to change her actions. She'd tried doing It the straightforward way. Healing people, putting everything in the right place, hating herself as she slaved away her nights at the hospital.

The rest of the world probably thought that she was doing cops because they got hurt in the line of duty, like it was somehow more heroic to heal them than to heal someone getting hurt in a skiing accident or working with power tools. That wasn't exactly true though. No, the reason she asked for cops, was because she could be relatively certain they wouldn't abuse their ability.

"So, looking to help the good people of Chicago some more?" she asked, keeping a close eye on the man's vital signs.

"Yep," Micky replied. "I'm behind a desk right now, but if I could be back on the street again? Count me in!"

She suppressed a sigh of relief, happy at the knowledge that whatever else, Micky's intentions were pure. Then, she started her work.

She couldn't be too obvious. Not the way she'd been with Judas, but she didn't need to be obvious to be useful. In fact, most of her upgrades could be explained away as simply increased physical fitness, something done in order to counteract the atrophied muscles and lowered endurance from sitting in a wheelchair all day.

An improved heart, something more effective than haemoglobin, an immune system that would protect him from most everything except alcohol, muscles that were quite a bit stronger than they had any right to be. Enhanced regeneration, thicker skin, improved clotting factors, she filled the young policeman up with everything she could think of that wouldn't be immediately obvious.

If she lied to herself, she'd say that she did it this way so that, when it got discovered, she could point towards the success of her work. Ask forgiveness instead of permission. In truth, she just couldn't go back to the way things had been before.

"Whoa… that feels weird," Micky remarked.

"I have to modify a few things," Amy told him. "Get your body ready for fieldwork again, make sure you can hit the ground running instead of requiring months of physical therapy."

"Makes sense," the guy said. "And again, thank you for doing this. If there's ever anything we can do for you?"

"Just… be sure to get back into the game?" Amy replied, finishing the final touches on her subject.

"Will do ma'am!" he said with a mock salute.

"Well, that should be okay," Amy said. "Try it out for me?"

The man rose, -his bare currently hairless, since she'd forgotten to put those in,- checking out his new limbs, bouncing from one to the other and doing a little twirl, to the amusement of the onlooking children.

"As good as new, maybe better," the man smiled, stretching his new limbs.

"Well, your turn now Rudolph," Amy said, holding out a hand for the second man.

The man awkwardly took his left hand, touching it to Amy's right. "Well, guess that'll be the last time I have this particular problem!"

"Guess it will be," Amy said, awkwardly extending her other hand instead, and grabbing hold of the man, her right hand still on Judas's massive flank. Micky hadn't been a small man, but compared to Judas's bulk, it'd been absolutely nothing.

"So, you two partners?" she asked.

"Desk-partners," Micky answered for them.

"We got called in to a big shoot-out," Rudolph explained.

"Long story short, we became best buds in the ICU."

"Plus, Micky's wife makes amazing cakes."

"See, that's why I trust Rudy. If I left him alone with my baby, all he'd ask for is more food!" Micky smiled, still enjoying his new legs.

"I'll just be happy to be doing my real job again," Rudy said, his body telling the truth.

Satisfied, Amy started her work, moving bulk from Judas to Rudy, and improving the rest of his body at the same time.

She was living a lie, even more so than when she pretended to be a squeaky clean hero, but this lie? This was one that she could live with.

***

Dismounting from Judas, Amy made her way into their apartment, tired but satisfied. Most of the Wards had left after hearing about a disturbance halfway across the city, in a hospital where Myrddin and Dovetail were holding a stake-out.

Whoever thought to have Myrddin on stake-out in a hospital was a total idiot, but it wasn't her problem, not anymore. She healed, she helped out her sister, and she worked on her education. That was it. No more, no less. She had a few new rules, and one of them was to stop trying to overburden herself.

Their apartment was on the first two floors of a larger building, with a large, two-story, open living room, ostensibly to give Judas some room, actually to allow Victoria to fly around the living room and watch TV upside down.

"I'm home!" she yelled out, hoping to wake up her sister and annoy her for a bit.

She didn't reply, probably because it was the middle of the night, meaning that she wasn't home yet. Amy walked to their kitchen, getting her hands on some nachos and cheese, placing it in the oven, and slouching down on the couch while Judas was going for his massive food bowl.

She went through the channels, hoping for something to look at while she was waiting for her nachos to get ready. Problem was, there was absolutely nothing on the TV.

Bored, she looked around the room, trying to find something to distract herself. Vicky had put up several old pictures from the New Wave day, as well as Carol's framed copy of the front of the newspaper the day the Brigade unmasked. In addition to that, there were what looked like at least a hundred burger wrappers, shoddily shoved into a garbage bag by her sister's little helpers, who were currently in a minor civil war with what was colloquially known as 'the pizza-pricks.'

There was a shelf of books, mostly magazines, and a pin-board where Victoria had pinned several cards and pictures from Amy's patients, send in order to assuage their guilt at getting free healing and them promptly ignoring her, not that she could fault them for it.

As she flipped through the channels, trying to find a channel that wasn't third-rate political commentary, Judas suddenly started whining.

"What's up buddy?" Amy asked, but Judas just continued, eventually walking towards her and tugging on her arm.

"What's wrong? You need to go pee?" she asked, but a look at the dog's enhanced body told her that his massive bladder was still mostly empty.

"Rhuff," Judas barked, pulling her along.

"It's alright buddy, I'm coming," she replied, patting his head a bit, slightly down-shifting his stress levels while doing so. It wouldn't do to have him overly worried.

Judas led her up the stairs, trying to manoeuvre his massive bulk through, towards Vicky's room.

"She's not home buddy. Remember? I called out and everything?" she said, trying to comfort her dog, but he would have none of it, whining at her. "Okay, I'll check it…" she groaned, opening up the door to her sister's room, slightly excited to be in there when Victoria wasn't.

Except, she noticed, for the part where Vicky was already sleeping. And she wasn't exactly sleeping like a baby, instead twisting and turning under her blankets.

"That's very nice of you, to worry about her like that," Amy told Judas, as he dashed through, shaking Vicky with one of his paws, but the girl didn't wake up.

"Hey, sis, wake up, you're having a nightmare," Amy said, walking up to the bed and laying a hand on her sister's sweating forehead.

She activated her power, flooding her sister's body, and indirectly her brain, with hormones that should wake her up. Adrenalin, PER, Cortisol and a half-dozen other substances. Logically speaking, and according to everything her power told her, it should've woken her up, but something was interfering somehow, keeping the chemicals from properly affecting the neurons in those cases where it would have woken her up, but letting the stress hormones themselves through.

Suddenly afraid, Amy applied more of her power, but found herself unable to free Victoria from being trapped in her nightmare.


	29. The Nightmare

**The Nightmare**

"I hate you, I hate all of you!" Carol called out, throwing her energy weapon at Vicky. She dodged it easily, but that wasn't the problem here.

She looked at her mother, at the mutated, naked, flesh. The sheer hate on her face.

She knew it wasn't really Carol, that this was some kind of strange double created by whatever that thing had been, but still.

Her mother was dead, killed in Eidolon's blast, still engulfed by the cloning monster's flesh, and this pale mimic in front of her was the only thing that remained.

She felt tears in her eyes, looking at the hateful face of her fake mother. It wasn't even that different from the original, from the way her mother sometimes looked at Amy, if she thought no-one was watching.

Vicky landed. Then, kicking off with her legs, she launched herself forward in a straight dive. Her mother, or rather, her mother's clone, materialized another energy weapon, but Vicky didn't care. She grabbed a garbage bin, throwing it at her opponent, and it smashed into her body at an incredible speed.

She heard the sound of broken bones, of flesh being torn in places where it shouldn't be torn, and she knew she fucked up. Thinking quickly, she flew towards her phone, using the old rotary dial to put in her sister's number.

Three rings later, she heard the sound of her sister on the line. "Hello, this is Panacea, I don't do requests, because my sister told me I should take it easy."

"Amy, you have to help me, Gallant's hurt!" Victoria yelled at her, crying as she was standing over Gallant's hospital bed.

"I'm sorry Vicky, but I'm dating Jack Slash now. It's like mother always said, I'm secretly a supervillain," her sister replied.

"No Amy, mother's wrong. I know you. You have a good heart, You've always had one. Please, just come back home? You can't keep sneaking off to the hospital all night."

"But Vicky, don't you remember? He is coming, and he is angry."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Vicky asked, looking around to see where her sister was talking from. The room was empty though, the only remotely interesting thing the slow oozing of the walls.

"You stopped his plans once sister, but you can't do so again. You're in his realm now. He's far stronger than anything you could ever face. Even the soulless endbringers are nothing compared to him."

"What the hell are you even talking about?" she asked.

"We're nothing Vicky. We're just children, playing with toys we inherited from our parents. We're not like him. He is coming, he will take what he needs, and then he will exact his revenge."

"Who's revenge!?"Victoria yelled out as she saw whoever it was that Amy was referring to appear.

The wall of flesh in front of her split open, and a dark and shadowy figure entered the room. And it wasn't that he was wearing a hooded cloak, or that he was somehow surrounded by shadows. It was that he was darkness and shadows personified, his every movement thrumming with power.

"Hello Glory Girl," the personified nightmare said.

It was dark, evil, vile. In its hand it held an iron chain, connected to the wall behind him, which had turned into charred flesh, covered in organs and smelling faintly of pork.

It looked like Genoscythe had, before the massive remnants of his body had started rotting. His body somehow turned into the architecture of this place. The nightmarish before her then, was probably the warlock they'd fought, somehow having escaped the birdcage. Which was troubling, because if one person could do it, then more people could.

"Kravos," Victoria replied.

"Do you know why I'm here?" he asked.

"You wanted to get your face smashed in?" she replied.

Kravos smiled at her, showing perfectly white, sharp, predatory teeth. The smile extended, far past where his mouth should have ended, and a large snake-like tongue extended from between his teeth.

"I like your spunk," he hissed. "I think I'll take it for myself."

Victoria looked around, trying to see if she could find something she could use. A way to escape, a weapon to use in the fight, something to call for help.

She was in her old room now. Or at least something that looked like it. It was bigger than it should be, and the walls were made of twisting, charred flesh. Posters on the walls had been replaced by bleeding eyeballs the size of her head, and the windows… she didn't look at the windows. Her bed had been replaced by something out of a fake torture dungeon, and her desk oozed with yellow pus.

A Shaker effect. That's all it was. A shaker effect created by whatever remained of Genoscythe's spirit. This wasn't anything new, and it would be just like dealing with someone like labyrinth Sure, she couldn't stagger the encounter and escape, but she could still take down the nightmare's creator.

She rose, pumping up her power to the maximum. Fists extended in front of her, clad in the reinforced fabric of her costume. Her tiara blazed with light. She was Glory, she was grace, she would punch him in the face.

She soared forwards, fist extended in front of her, her feet no longer touching the Shaker effect. Kravos just laughed, his open mouth covering half his shadowy face. She'd give him something to smile about.

They'd taken this guy out before, and she could do so again. He was nothing but a parasite, feeding on someone else's power because he was too weak to amount to anything on his own.

As her fist made contact with the man's face, she realized she'd made a massive mistake. Instead of smashing apart the shadowy face, Kravos's mouth opened up further, engulfing her arm before biting down.

She screamed, her world filled with blinding pain as she fell to the ground, desperately clutching at the stump that remained of her limb.

"Didn't expect that, did you? Foolish girl," Kravos said, laughing, multiple tongues licking the blood from his lips. "Here's a fun fact for you. That connection of yours? It's almost entirely physical. Something of the physical world. The only reason you even have powers in your dreams is because you believe you do."

Victoria looked at him, wondering why her forcefield hadn't kicked in. She tried to rise, lifting up from the ground with her flight, but it didn't work. Even her aura, normally a constant reassurance in the back of her head, was gone.

"What… what did you do to me?" she asked.

"Nothing much, at least not yet," he answered, slowly floating forwards. Had he taken her flight? Could you even do that?

"Tell me girl, do you know what thaumaturgy is?" the man asked, holding out a hand and making a gesture like he called something forth.

A scythe exactly like those Genoscythe created spawned from the ground right beneath her, impaling her straight through her stomach. She saw it sticking out of her stomach, covered in ectoplasmic ichor. She screamed, louder than she'd ever screamed before.

Kravos stepped forward, a quick flick of his many tongues passing past her throat, giving her a tracheotomy, and silencing her screams.

"As I was saying, it's all about thaumaturgy," the man said, walking around her in a quick circle.

"You see, in my previous attempts, I tried to take over the entire power, make it my own entirely. My attempt failed, and I tried to bite off more than I could chew, if you'll accept my little pun," the man said, monologuing as she slowly bled to death.

"The thing is, the entire endeavor was foolish, based upon a perspective that understood the arcane side of things, but failed to appreciate the parahuman half of the equation."

The man stood behind her, holding her head in a clawed hand, and she swore she could feel his fingers in her head.

"You see, these new faerie, they don't care about the soul, or the essence. They want DNA, and a dimensional signature. All I have to do-" His hand squished her head between his fingers, entering into it, and coming out with a small, glowing organ dangling between his fingers. The Corona Pollentia? Or some sort of spiritual representation of it? She felt her mind tearing itself apart, like some sort of reverse trigger event, the pain coursing its way through her mind, like it was removing everything her power had added. She wanted to cry, to scream, to fight, but she couldn't. She was too weak, too pathetic, too powerless.

"-is take that connection, and make it my own." the man continued, bringing the glowing organ to his mouth, and swallowing it down.

She could almost see him change. A forcefield appearing around his skin, his legs raising off the floor, and her fear increasing even more, panic racing through her mind.

"And sure, it won't be quite as useful as my little pet here," he said, gesturing to the world around him. The shaker effect, Genoscythe's power.

"But it'll be a lot easier to control, won't it?" he continued. "Now, let's have us a little beat-down, shall we?" he said, grabbing hold of her hair with a hand, and pulling her off of the scythe, hanging her in front of him in mid-air.

Why wasn't she dead yet, she wondered. Shouldn't she have bled out yet? Was this all just a nightmare that would be over the moment she woke up?

The man's fist impacted her face, and she felt herself being thrown through the air, her bounces along the floor punctuated by a lance of pain in her entire being.

She tried to stand, getting up to one knee, holding her remaining hand in front of her, but she knew she couldn't beat him. This guy, as strong as he had already been, now had somehow taken her powers from her. Even if she managed to get a hit in, her forcefield would take care of him.

A small voice in the back of her head reminded her of the irony. Of the way she'd beaten down so many people in just this manner before calling her sister to help her out, but the small voice was drowned out by the pain as Kravos's knee smashed her jaw apart.

She fell to the ground, ready for the end as she felt something wet rub across her skin. Her blood? Did she even have blood in this dream realm? Would she die in real life if she died here?

She felt more than heard Kravos's footsteps come near, ready to deliver a finishing blow. She closed her eyes, ready to accept the end when something coursed through her body, setting it on fire.

Her eyes opened, her arm regrowed, and as the man's leg lazily kicked at her head, she dodged with lightning speed, getting back to her legs.

"Oh, you still have some willpower left in you?" the man asked. "Well, that only means this will be more fun for me."

Willpower? Was that what it was? No. At least not in the traditional sense. This most certainly wasn't her willpower keeping her alive, regrowing her spirit body. This was…

It was Amy, once again saving the victims of her power, flooding her body with adrenaline and other hormones, giving her another shot.

But… even if she'd been healed up, she was still powerless, unable to defeat the man before her. The only thing Amy had bought her was slightly more time before her death.

Except… She couldn't beat this guy, but someone else, or rather, something else, might. From observing Taylor, she knew the basics of what she had to do, and if she was already in the spirit-world, then this wouldn't be very difficult, would it now?

Using her regrown vocal chords, she spoke up.

"Azorthragal, Azorthragal, Azorthragal."

"What did you say?" Kravos asked, but Victoria just smiled. She felt something inside her, filling the gap left by the loss of her powers, and by Kravos's impromptu dinner. It seeped in along the cracks, patching her back up together with molten black glass. She felt its power course through her, her body heating up with power, and stepped forward.

 _"Interesting, I didn't know I could do this,"_ a dark voice said in the back of her head.

 _"Me neither,"_ she thought back at him, stepping forwards with determination, her feet leaving a trail of molten glass on the ground.

"Interesting," Kravos said with that unnerving tone of his. "But I happen to know that your power is stronger than that demon."

"Try me," Victoria replied, slowly walking towards him, ready for the impact.

Kravos flew forward, fist extending, too trusting in her powers. His punch hit her right in the face, smashing through the skin and bone, but somehow not killing her.

Then, as his shield was down from the impact of the punch, molten glass started pouring into the new cracks in her spirit. Kravos pulled his hand back, but it was too late, the ridiculously hot and corrosive glass stuck to his hand, beneath the forcefield.

Victoria stepped forward, smashing her body into Kravos's with all her might, seeping with the molten glass of the demon.

"You may have my powers, but you have no idea how to use them, do you?" she whispered in his ear.

Kravos dashed back, pushing himself away from her, but it was already too late. His skin was smoking, and she could smell something that reminded her of burned shadows, his hand slowly being reduced to bones.

"You'll pay for this!" the man cried out, flying away through an exit suddenly appearing in the environment, and as he did so, the flesh and organs slowly transformed back into a strange version of her room. The bed once again a bed, the windows once again windows.

Victoria collapsed in exhaustion, and immediately woke up, smashing her head into that of a crying Amy by accident.

"Amy, are you alright?" she asked, instinctively trying to float up out of her bed, ready to embrace her little sister.

Her power however, was gone, replaced by what felt like molten glass in the pit of her stomach.

Judas's massive tongue rubbed over her body, slathering her in dog spit, and she gave his massive head a quick hug. He looked at her, his eyes inspecting every part of his body like he was scared of something.

"Relax buddy, it's still me," she said, and his tail started wagging like crazy again.

"Vicky, you're safe," Amy said, lying on the ground, one hand held to a red spot on her forehead.

"Yeah, I'm safe," Vicky responded, not entirely sure if that was right or not.

 _"Azorthragal, you there?"_ she thought, sending the words bouncing around in her head.

 _"I believe I am,"_ it responded.

 _"Guess my power's really gone then…"_ she thought, the intensity of it hitting her. Kravos, the warlock that had been sent to the birdcage, had escaped, and gotten some sort of Trump power that allowed him to steal your abilities in your dreams.

 _"That does seem to be the case,"_ it said. _"I can see the scars in your spirit where it happened."_

 _"Any idea if I can get them back?"_ she asked. She wasn't sure if she could trust this demon, but, weren't they unable to tell a lie? Anyway, it couldn't exactly hurt to ask, could it?

 _"Perhaps,"_ he replied. _"But if it is possible, I know exactly who to ask. His name is Nicodemeus. He's been around for a while, and I know just how to convince him to help you."_

Vicky sighed in relief. There was a way to get her powers back. This would all be temporary.

She sat up, looking at her sister. The girl was tired and sweating in panic, so she gave her a hug, giving her little sis a hiding place to put her tears.

"It's alright Amy, I chased him off, whatever it was," she told her.

Things weren't alright, and she'd have to inform Myrddin before going back to sleep, if she even could, but lil' Ames didn't need to worry about that.

"I… I thought you would stay in it, that I'd lost you," Amy replied. "There was something in your head, keeping you asleep. I wanted to do something but…"

"But you don't do brains. I know Ames, it's alright," she replied, rubbing her hand, the one that Kravos had bitten off just a few minutes ago, across Amy's back.

"I can't lose you too," Amy whispered, her head hidden away in Vicky's chest, hugging against her just a tad too tightly.

"You won't Amy, I'll stay with you. We're a team," she replied, trying to comfort her little sister.

"Also, do I smell nachos?"


	30. Chapter 17

"Meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow."

Mister had made it very clear that no, he did not, in fact, like it when there were vampires on my doorstep, and I had to admit, I could do nothing but agree. Apparently, Bianca's minion had chased him off, because I'd found him two blocks over, hiding under a car, completely terrified.

"Meow, meow meow," I responded, giving him a pat on his head. He purred, obviously happy with the company.

"Myrddin, have you seen Cuff and Grace? We're supposed to leave in about five minutes," Revel asked, standing in the doorway of my office.

"Meow," Mister said, running for Revel and smashing himself against her legs in the same way he always did to me. It took her by surprise, but instead of bowling her over, she simply floated back a step or two, instinctively activating her flight.

"Meow!" Mister protested, obviously annoyed at the lack of damage inflicted.

"Meow meow," I replied, shaking the can of food I'd brought him. He looked at me like I was dirt on which to tread, dismissing the processed wet food.

"Dresden, why is there a giant cat in your office?" Revel inquired, folding her hands and leaning against the door in her bad-cop pose.

"Well, he's in the hallway now," I replied, as Mister tried to climb his way up Revel's reinforced dress as if it was a curtain. Revel ignored it, believing herself too important to deal with such mundane issues as cats. The two of them made a great pair.

"Harry," she hissed at me, a deadly glare in her eyes.

"I'm a wizard, he's a cat, seems obvious to me," I replied, countering her seriousness with a massive grin. "I mean, sure, he's not black, but disqualifying him for that is probably cat-racist."

"No, I mean, why is he here? In the building?" she asked as Mister reached her shoulder and started pawing at her lantern.

"Rempires," I explained.

"Rempires?" she asked, finally giving in and taking Mister into her arms, giving him a quick little scratch. When pressed, she would probably claim it was to protect her equipment from kitty claws, but I knew better than that.

"Red Court Vampires," I clarified. "Bianca's people, the ones we have infesting our dear city."

"Don't tell me there's more of them," she said with an overly dramatic sigh. Mister, always attentive, started nuzzling up against her. He was a crotchety old cat, but he knew what to do when it mattered.

"Well, you know those Twilight movies? The ones Dovetail is so enthusiastic about?" I said, inventing the latter half of the statement. I had no idea if Dovetail even watched them, but I was pretty sure she wouldn't like the implication.

"Don't tell me the other courts feed on bad movies instead of blood," she said sarcastically, as Mister moved his attention back to the lantern, it's swinging movements having proven too interesting for him to resist.

"White Court, sex vampires," I explained. "They feed on human emotions, usually lust, sometimes fear or despair instead. And then there's the black vampires, which-"

"African American vampires," she corrected me, happy to get one over on me.

"I'm the one in charge of jokes around here, boss. You already have my cat, are you going to take that from me too?"

"Presumably? What's his name?"

"Mister," I replied.

"So she's a girl? She asked, taking a second look at the massive cat on her shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow. Just the one. I liked to claim that doing that was one of my wizard powers.

"Because if anyone ever called a female cat Mister, it would've been you," she stated, grabbing hold of him and holding him in front of her, where she smooshed her face against his.

"Fair point," I admitted. I should've thought of that option a couple of years ago.

"Also, now that I'm here, how's Skitter doing?" she asked, stepping forward in sitting down in my guest chair, Mister purring on her lap.

"Better than I am," I replied. "She met up with Panacea and some of the Wards yesterday, impromptu get together at the hospital. Something about cockroach removal."

"Good to hear our Brocktonians have been settling in," Revel said. "Makes me think things are looking up for the city."

"You think so?" I asked her. While we hadn't had any big losses in quite a while, it wasn't like we'd taken down the big players either.

"I hope so," she said. "We've been pretty good at managing the teenagers in town. Take that recruiting pool away from the gangs, and we should be able to win in the long run."

Typical, I thought. Leave it to Revel to turn her penchant for forcibly recruiting and reforming teenagers into some sort of long-term plan to save the city.

"That leaves out the adults, the imports, and the creepy-crawlies," I replied, trying to poke holes in her plan.

"True," she admitted, her smile drooping a bit. "But that's where we come in."

"And then there's folks like Marcone, who don't need powers to be horrible."

"Yeah…" she said, trailing off as Mister jumped from her lap to my desk, where he took my paperwork and turned it into a bed. I probably wouldn't be able to work on it for a while, which was just such an annoyance.

"So, the Black Court," I said. "Think necromancy, and old-fashioned vampire movies. Garlic, holy water, sunlight, the works. Stoker's book is quite literally a hunting guide."

"So we've got classic Dracula, bloodsuckers, and sexy motherfuckers, that about it?" Revel asked, one hand extended forward to play with Mister's paw.

"As far as what we'll find in the city? Probably. I know there's something called a Jade Court over in the far east, and who knows what could be hiding among the penguins, but those three are the big ones we'll have to worry about."

"Great, more things to prepare for," she said, standing back up again. "Anyway, I'm off to find the girls. Just, try not to bring your cat on patrol?"

"I'll try," I replied, stroking Mister on his head as he purred from satisfaction. "Maybe Tekky wants an important mission while tinkering."

"And Dresden, try to figure out who attacked you and Dovetail yesterday, I don't want something like that to bite us in the ass later on."

"I'll get on it," I said, lifting a protesting Mister to get at my paperwork. I'd have to do some magical research, and it'd help to have my notes with me.

"So the blonde? That's definitely Glory Girl, right?" I asked, looking at my two assistants, one of them lovely, the other leering, and both of them mostly disembodied.

"Could be me, but that's unlikely," Tattletale said. "Then again, there's probably a few million blondes in the city, so it's not like it's easy to narrow down."

"But, if it's Genoscythe's ghost, then it should be limited to those who had a role in his death," Bob said.

"You don't sound very self-assured," I said. "That's new."

"Well, I've got hundreds of years of magical knowledge in my noggin," Bob said. "But there's parahumans involved here, so who knows what could happen!"

"So, if ghosts are limited to stuff involving their death, what about me?" Lisa asked. "Pretty sure neither of you killed me."

"That's the problem!" Bob said. "Presumably, you can flit around because you still have your soul. You're dead, but alive. Somewhere between a person and a spirit. Question is, why doesn't this happen to every parahuman? And if we work from the presumption that you're somehow unique, then what the hell is happening with Genoscythe?"

"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way," I said. "Thinking about it, how sure are we this is Genoscythe's ghost?"

"Someone pretending to be Genoscythe? Unlikely, at least from the parahuman side of it. If he was alive, sure, lot's of masters that could do that, but shards don't really have the wiring to mimic spirits. It could be a versatile Trump, but how would they get to the Nevernever?" Lisa said.

"Same from this side," Bob agreed. "Theoretically, any number of things in the Nevernever could be strong enough to create that effect, but from what you were describing, the actual demesne was changing, and that generally follows the nature of the being responsible. The winter queen turning everything frosty, stuff like that. No, I'm pretty sure that this was Genoscythe's ghost, or at least that it was somehow involved."

"What if it's both?" Lisa asked, and I raised an eyebrow at her.

"What if it was Genoscythe's ghost, but it was also someone else? Think about it, the Culler's entire plan was to take Genoscythe's power for his own, right?"

"Except it failed. Taylor and Victoria stopped his ritual, putting a hold on his plans."

"But what if it didn't?" Lisa said. "Or, what if something went horribly right instead of horribly wrong?"

"Ectomancy," Bob said. "He couldn't eat a living parahuman, but controlling a dead one? That's a different story, isn't it?"

"Except the Culler is safely locked away in the birdcage," I said. "How could that shadow possibly be him?"

"Is he? I mean, he probably didn't escape, given the way Nevernever portals work, but what if he died? He's not a parahuman, so he wouldn't have been sucked in by Glaistig Uaine, so wouldn't his ghost have been able to simply walk out?" Lisa asked.

"Possibly. As you know, ghosts aren't limited to moving through the Nevernever," Bob said. "We've been assuming that, if he were to escape, he'd do so through there, but if he never left…"

"So, three things on our to-do list. Figure out if Kravos died, tell Dragon to build a ghost-wall around the birdcage, and warn Glory Girl about Kravos," I said.

"How would he get to her?" Lisa asked. "He's in the Nevernever, right?"

"Wouldn't be difficult to get out of there, right?" I asked Bob.

"True, but he'd be a spirit in our world. So he would be unable to cross thresholds, and would have to create a body out of ectoplasm before interacting with anything physical."

"So stay inside, and get ready to punch stuff with holy water, nothing she won't be able to handle, right?"

"Presumably," Lisa said. "As for the other targets..."

"That's me, Taylor, Revel, Ebenezar, and possibly Hookwolf."

"Scratch Hookwolf from that list, the Culler was long gone by the time he arrived."

"Good point," I said. "Let's get to it."

I drove my trusty, tinker-enhanced car up and took a good look at the Dallon sisters' apartment. The house was relatively close to the university, which made sense. The two of them were slightly older than Taylor, and had already gotten their G.E.D's. Amy Dallon had been working at hospitals across the city, and was selling her services for medical research, while Victoria was ostensibly studying something at the university.

Stepping out of the car, I walked through the small front yard, roughly two feet of plants in front of the windows, and knocked on their front door. Sure, there was a doorbell, but knowing my magic, it'd probably start smoking right before I could put my finger on it.

Inside, I heard Judas start barking, and after several seconds, Amy Dallon opened the door, wearing a large sweater, with puffy eyes.

"What's wrong?" I immediately asked.

"Myrddin?" she replied, looking me over as I realized she'd never really met me out of costume before.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to Vicky but, what's wrong?" I asked.

"It's Vicky… she…"

"Is she hurt?" I asked, my hand subconsciously tightening its grip on my staff.

"It's not that, it's… she left," Amy said.

"Left?"

"Packed her bags, said she needed to sort some things out for herself.," Amy said, rubbing a tear from her eyes.

"What happened?" I asked her, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. Women and children were a weakness for me. Crying teenage girls that spend their life healing people? Couldn't hit me harder if she tried to.

"I don't know… She was having this weird nightmare, and after she woke up, she was really distrustful of everything, like she was paranoid people were out to get her. I thought it was just cause of what happened. Not the first time one of us has had nightmares," she said.

"Sounds rough," I told her. I'd had my share of nightmares about losing my family, losing my father and Elaine.

"But, come in," she said, remembering that we'd been standing in front of the door, where everyone could see us.

I followed behind her, spotting the incredibly large dog bed, filled with ridiculously large pillows. Looked like someone was spoiling Clifford.

"Coffee? Tea?" Amy asked, walking to the kitchenette.

"Leaf juice would be nice," I replied, sitting down on the couch as Judas put his head on my lap, trying to catch Mister's scent and figure out where the cat went. The joke was on him, because Mister was being growled at by Tera right now, who was still the baddest doggo in town.

"So, can you go over the details?" I asked as Amy arrived with a minty tea.

"It's… I came back from the hospital when she was already asleep. After a while, Judas noticed something, so I went in to check up on her. She was tossing and turning, and I couldn't get her to wake up for a while. She woke up after a few minutes, and she said everything was fine, even wanted to steal my nachos," Amy said, taking a long gulp of her steaming hot tea.

Nightmares… Did I know anything about nightmares? She hadn't left the house yet, so she should have been safe from Kravos, so what could have scared her into leaving?

"Hmmm," I said, hoping it would convince Amy that I was deeply in thought, instead of having no idea what I was really doing.

"Did anything happen after she woke up?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Amy replied. "Judas was acting up, and I ended up falling asleep right next to him. When I woke up, there was a small note on the table, and she was gone."

"Can I see the note?" I asked, and Amy removed it from her purse, the little post-it looking like it had been wet.

I took it from her, and opened my third eye to inspect it. The note remained largely the same. A yellow post it, looking somewhat like old parchment, with smudges from tears on it. The text itself remained unchanged, a quick note from Victoria telling her sister she was leaving. THe ink and font however, had taken on a different form. The ink itself had been replaced by what looked like black blood, carved into the post-it in a manner that reminded me of a black death metal album cover.

Demons, I was pretty sure. At least one of them. Given Victoria's chosen career path, it could be a whole host of different ones. Either predators looking to use her power for themselves, or demons whose plans she'd thwarted. Given the current villain in town though, I was pretty sure that it was probably Kravos's pet that was responsible.

I looked up at Amy, wanting to tell her about what had presumably happened to her sister, when I noticed I'd left my third eye open.

Amy looked like an angel. Calm, serene, a symbol of warmth and healing. At least on the outside. Beneath that outer layer, once you stripped away the aura of her reputation, was one of the vilest beings imaginable. A high-school aged teenager in all her bitchiness laid bare. Petty, angry, and filled with self-doubt. Self-doubt that eventually led to that far too perfect exterior of her. It was in this middle layer that I could see her shard, burrowing in together with with the pressures of outside expectations. A metaphorical thing, I was pretty sure. Two things hurting her in the same way. Then, hidden even deeper beneath all that, at the very core of her being, there was a little girl that was both terribly afraid, and pure of heart.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

I blinked, closing three eyes and opening two of them again. "Yeah, just distracted a little," I explained. "Listen Amy, do you have any idea why your sister might be listening to a demon? It shouldn't have been able to attack her here, but…"

"A demon? Don't think so," she replied. "I mean, she's been using those little faeries as scouts and battlefield lighting, but I don't see why she'd change to demons all of a sudden."

"Oh, right, the wee folk…" I said as a thought entered my mind. Faeries couldn't lie, they were physically unable of speaking anything but the truth, and were bound by their promises. What if Victoria, knowing as little as she did, thought that that applied to all magical creatures, like in the Maggie Holt books? If so, even though she'd know not to trust demons, it would have been able to reassure her by saying whatever it wanted her to believe…

"Amy, we might have a serious problem here, and I have absolutely no idea if it's related to this whole 'Kravos two, electric boogaloo,' thing."

"Kravos two?" Amy asked.

"He's back, in ghost-pog form," I explained. "It's one of the reasons I dropped by, I wanted to see if I could borrow Judas for something."

"Are you going to use him to track down Vicky?" Amy asked.

"I wish…" I answered. "But, Vicky being Vicky, she probably took to the skies right after going through the door."

"If she didn't just use the window…" Amy said, looking at the floor before her. "Any ideas to track her down?"

"A couple," I said. "The most obvious is to use her hair to track her down thaumaturgically. But if she's listening to a powerful demon and doesn't want to be found, then she's probably taken countermeasures.

"I see," Amy said. "So, what should I do?"

I took the post-it note she'd handed me before, turning it around and writing down a phone number and address. "These are the details of a guy called Michael. Wields a holy sword and fights the forces of evil. If anyone can help you, he can," I told her, giving her the note.

"Thank you…" she said, her eyes lost, looking at the piece of paper. That girl really loved her sister, didn't she? "What did you want Judas for anyway?"

"I don't think my target is working alone, and I'm almost out of leads," I explained, fishing around in my pockets for my invitation to Bianca's vampire party. "So I want to use him to track down some vampires, see if I can figure out just how exactly they're involved."


End file.
